All You Need Is Love
by maddieponine
Summary: Enjolras and Eponine slowly found their ways, unconsciously, to creep into each other's heart while Eponine found her second family among the barricade boys.
1. I've Just Seen A Face

**Disclaimer: I do not own Les Miserablés.**

**All You Need Is Love**

"_Is there anybody going to listen to my story_

_All about the girl who came to stay_

_She's the kind of girl you want so much it makes you sorry_

_Still you don't regret a single day_

_Oh girl…"_

_(Girl, The Beatles)_

* * *

Chapter I

"Monsieur Marius". She stood behind the door with her head poked in. "Are you busy?"

Marius turned around to face the brunette, now standing at the floor with her hands twisting in her lap timidly. The morning light shone at her, creating a golden halo in her brown locks, usually greasy and dull from the dirt.

"Éponine! No not at all. Please come in." He waved her in. "In fact, I am in desperate need of company."

"Is that so?" Éponine grinned, her face shone like a child, having been given its favorite toy. How beautiful he is, she thought. How kind he is to me. "What have you been up to Monsieur? Are you still pretending to your friends that you're poor?" She picked up a book from his bookshelf. Finding herself a comfortable spot, Éponine sat down and leaned against the wall.

Reading at Marius's place had recently been her new escapism. Tired of wandering on the streets doing papa's dirty little jobs, Éponine found a safe haven in the pages and in Marius's apartment, beside the man she loves. Even when he's not around, being in the same space he lived in, breathing the air he breathed every day gave Éponine a pure happiness she had never experienced since her family descended into poverty. When he was around, the mere presence of him lifted her off the ground, off the dull, petty misery that was her life.

" 'Ponine, why do you say such things? I'm not pretending." Her heart skipped a beat hearing the nickname. To him it probably meant nothing. To her it was everything. It marked their friendship, their intimacy. From him, it sounded so special, so endearing. Marius chuckled. "I _am_ poor."

"Monsieur, I do not understand why you're doing this to yourself. I know your grandpa is sinfully rich." She looked at him playfully and smirked. "Just write him a letter explaining your situation. I'm sure he will take care of it nicely."

"My grandpa and I unfortunately haven't been getting along as marvelously as one might expect." Marius sighed as he reached down and pulled out a gun from a chest. "Besides, it is simply against my conscience. How could I live with myself, spending the money I have not earned while speaking of equality on the streets?"

"You are too noble Monsieur." She watched him admiringly while he jotted down on the paper. "I like the way you talk."

"Now now 'Ponine, you are teasing me again. Let's not talk about this. What are you reading?"

Éponine held up the cover of the book she was holding. "It's Aeschylus. The play _Agamemnon_."

"Were you not reading _The Iliad_ yesterday, 'Ponine?"

"Oh I finished it after you left Monsieur. I couldn't put it down."

Marius nodded approvingly. Happy that she had somehow proved herself to Marius, Éponine returned to the book, buried her nose in the pages. The two shared a moment of comfortable quietness, him writing, her reading. There was no need for chatting or small talk. Such superficial interactions were needless when two people were as intimate as they were. Or at least Éponine would like to think so.

Fifteen minutes later, their quiet air between them was disrupted by a stern voice coming from the door. "Marius for heaven's sake! What are you still doing here? Did you forget what I told you yesterday?!"

Éponine looked up at the source of interruption. She recognized him right away. It's the blonde young man, the one who was always giving speeches on the streets of Paris, pretty words of liberty and equality, sometimes with Marius by his side. Éponine had never seen him smile or even remotely relaxed. It's as though he was always carrying the world on his shoulder.

"No I have not Enjolras. But isn't it a bit early though?"

"It is never too early for Patria." Enjolras exclaimed. "Now it's when Paris is the busiest. We will attract the most attention if we speak now. Make haste Pontmercy."

Only then did Enjolras's focus shifted from Marius to the small figure leaning against the wall. Her huge brown eyes stared into his curiously. Marius followed his gaze to see a confused Éponine.

"Oh how inconsiderate of me, to not introduce the two of you." Marius clapped his hands together. "Enjolras, this is Éponine Jondrette. She lives next door to me. Éponine, this is my dear friend Enjolras."

Éponine rose up from the corner to shake the hand of the handsome young man. Too handsome for his own good, she thought. Even more so than Marius, not that it mattered to her.

"Mademoiselle, it is a pleasure to meet you." He nodded.

"Please Monsieur Enjolras, you should not call me mademoiselle." She smiled sadly. "I'm no mademoiselle."

Éponine could feel his blue eyes sweeping on her tattered petticoat and worn out chemise, her dirty untamed hair – now without the sunlight, had returned to its original pathetic state – her shoulder blades and elbows poking out awkwardly. She suddenly became very self-conscious and tried to shrink herself as much as possible. Éponine is uncomfortable with the glance of the young revolutionist. How little must his opinion of me be, she thought. Even if he did not condemn me, his pity wouldn't do me any good.

"Mademoiselle, you're just another citizen of Paris, no better or worse than anyone. However, as much as I'd like to stay and chit chat." He lifted his chin. "We must go now. We have wasted enough time."

"I see. Don't let me bother you two anymore." Éponine retreated back into her corner. Enjolras shot a puzzled look at Marius. Éponine noticed, she could tell from a sneaky glance but she ignored anyway. Sure thing, Enjolras must have been wondering what was this young girl doing all alone in Marius's apartment. Nobody understood the specialness of their relationship, she scoffed silently.

"Don't worry about her." She heard Marius whispering to his friend. "She's always here reading Homer and ancient Greek tragics. Poor girl cannot afford a book."

_Yes it is true. But more than that Monsieur Marius, I want to be with you, don't you understand?_

At last, the two gentlemen left. She heard their footsteps becoming more and more quiet until she could not make out the sound anymore. Éponine held the book to her chest, breathing in the air around her. She had 6 more hours to read. 6 more precious hours to be here before she had to return to the living hell, the madhouse that she called home. Father and Maman must be waiting for her reports on potential locations they can rob and steal from. She would have to make up some false report about how she searched high and low for something worthwhile in those houses but did not succeed. Given the costs of living nowadays, her story should not be that difficult to believe in, she hoped. Éponine hoped Montparnasse wouldn't be visiting tonight. She had been trying so hard to be clean for Marius. Sweet, pure Marius who knew nothing of her criminal, raggedy life. She absolutely did not want to taint Marius's apartment.

_If only he knew, _she sighed.


	2. Walk The Street For Money

**Disclaimer: I do not own Les Miserables.**

Chapter II. Walk The Street For Money

_"Roxanne, you don't have to put on the red light_

_Those days are over_

_You don't have to sell your body to the night_

_Roxanne, you don't have to wear that dress tonight_

_Walk the street for money_

_You don't care if it's wrong or if it's right"_

_(Roxanne, The Police)_

* * *

"What do you mean there is nothing worthy?" Madame Thenardier charged forward like a puma, nearly bumped into her eldest daughter. She pointed a finger at Éponine's chest while hissing. "I've seen the man and his daughter! Her dress was pure fine satin! God forbid me if their house is not full of silver plates and gold candlesticks."

Éponine stepped backward, flinching her nose at the casual degrading mention of God. Really Maman, Éponine smirked, do you really think you can still consider yourself a lamb of God?

"It's all for show, a façade. Inside the house is as empty and modest as a nun's. I tell you Maman, we'd better find another one." She answered, her face as hard as granite.

"I call bullshit." Said Claquesous, slowly walking towards Éponine from a dark corner. "I think little miss Doe-eyed here has been slacking off at work, right Éponine? I saw you sneaking into the next door's apartment this noon. What you doing there huh? Should we switch target to this one then?" Thus he grinned devilishly.

Her eyes grew wide with fear, she shook her head vigorously while crying. "No! Please don't. There's no need to! I shall come back to the philanthropist's house tomorrow I swear."

"Oh, Éponine my dear, why the frightful look? Is there something that you want to keep for yourself only in that apartment?" Claquesous stepped closer, placed his hand on her face and lifted her chin. Éponine turned away with disgust in her eyes, keeping her distance. _Only a poor young man and his books. If there is anything golden in that room, it must be his heart._

"No. Only a poor university student." Éponine casted her eyes down, folding her arms as though to protect herself.

"You wicked little _gamine_, what are you doing alone in a young Monsieur's apartment huh?" Madame Thenardier shrieked. "Sneaking behind Maman's back? Trying to run your own business?"

Éponine blushed ferociously at Maman's suggestion. "Absolutely nothing Maman! Besides…" she took a step forward, lifted her chin defiantly. "It's not like you and I are in a position to be concerned about such matters, eh? I can't be dirtied anymore than I already am." She glared at the woman at whom she called mother.

"Watch your mouth Éponine Thenardier. You should be grateful you even have a job and a roof above your head. Some cannot afford such luxuries."

She laughed bitterly. "A job that can barely feed my own mouth! Oh Maman, you can be so funny sometimes."

"What is going on?" Thenardier barged in. "Why are you two old hags quarrelling like a flock of geese? Stop this instant." He motioned towards a tall dark dandy standing nearby. "Éponine, be a good host and greet Monsieur Montparnasse properly won't you?"

_Great. Just what I need. _Éponine sighed heavily and greeted Montparnasse with a frown. "Good evening Montparnasse. How is plotting dirty schemes with papa going?"

Montparnasse chuckled and drew her close to him. Éponine turned her head away from him. "Ah Éponine, still as stubborn as ever. Sometimes I wonder if that's why I like you so much."

"Your sentiments are not at all appreciated, Montparnasse." She spoke hoarsely.

"Such beautiful eyes." He continued to look at her lustfully. "Such a shame they are not admiring me, do you think so Madame Thenardier?"

Madame Thenardier giggled. "My dear Monsieur Montparnasse, don't be silly, I'm sure Éponine is very fond of you. Now off you go Éponine, make him feel at home like a proper young lady you are."

Montparnasse threw his head back laughing while pushing Éponine to a room nearby.

"Close the door." He said. Éponine slowly closed the door, feeling like a part of her was dying as each second went by. _Forgive me Marius. _She closed her eyes and silently prayed to him. _My body may be tainted, but my heart is pure and completely yours. _

She glazed at Montparnasse coldly while he approached her and put a kiss on her chapped lips. "One day you shall learn to love me, Éponine. One day." He whispered. Éponine closed her eyes and imagined the hands that were roaming her body were not of Montparnasse but with thin, delicate fingers, the hands of Marius Pontmercy. Even so, as Montparnasse tore the chemise off her delicate shoulders, Éponine slightly shuddered. She found herself murmuring, "You would have to pay for that. That's the only good chemise I have left."

At that moment, Éponine never loathed herself more.

"As long as you obey me well my little doll." He whispered into her ears.

* * *

" 'Ponine!" Marius exclaimed. "Would you happen to know who that beautiful mademoiselle is?"

"That bourgeois two a penny thing?" Éponine knitted her eyebrows, murmuring. "I don't know what you see in her."

" 'Ponine, would you please do me a favor? Would you find out where she lives for me, please my dear 'Ponine?" Marius ignored her insult, his eyes sparkling with love and delight. _He has never been that happy because of me_, she bitterly commented to herself. Trying to hide the pain that was stabbing her heart, Éponine smirked.

"Got you all excited now huh? And what would you give me in return?"

"Anything!" Marius exclaimed. Thus he drew out some coins from his pocket.

In a second, Éponine recalled the three napoleons Montparnasse had condescendingly threw on the table last night when he was done with her. She cringed at that image and turned away. "No, I don't want your money Monsieur."

"Wait!" He cried, thus grabbed her arm. Startled by the touch of his hand, the direct bare skin contact, Éponine stopped and looked at him curiously.

"Please, I shall do anything as your desire. I promise."

"If you insist Monsieur." She smiled sadly. "If it makes you so happy."

"Oh 'Ponine, you have no idea how happy a man you have made me!"

_Monsieur Marius, you have no idea how distressed a girl you have made me. But I shall do anything for you, as long as it makes you happy_, she thought to herself. Meanwhile, she watched as the blonde revolutionary walked up to Marius. The two exchanged a few words, completely oblivious to her existence then left without saying goodbye to Éponine. She watched as they disappear into the crowd, then she collapsed to the ground and buried her head between her knees.

_If only I have some brandy here that can take away the pain._

* * *

"Freshen up Éponine!" Madame Thenardier said as Éponine entered the inn, wandering absent-mindedly. "We have a special guest. He is waiting in the room at the left corner. Make sure you entertain him properly."

Entertain, she smirked, entertain my ass. Why Maman? Are you that greedy, that money-hungry, to be willing to sacrifice your daughter's innocence and emotional well-being? She was only glad that Azelma was spared from the job, now that Éponine was still in charge of it. Éponine shivered at the thought of Azelma having to go through what she was going through right now a couple of years down the road. That is if Azelma could survive for the next years. In these days, you could not tell anything. Her life as well as Azelma's are as fragile as candles in the wind. She could only pray to God and did her best.

Éponine washed her face and her arms then combed her wild, untamed brown hair. Not that she cared about her appearance, and she doubted the gentleman waiting in that room did either, she only did it out of habit. Walking down the dark hallway, Éponine took a deep breath as she got closer and closer to the door. "Let's see what kind of repugnant creature I have to serve tonight, shall we?" She mumbled then pushed the door and entered.

As Éponine closed the door behind her, she inhaled deeply then put on her best smile. "Welcome to the Sergent at Waterloo, Monsieur. I am here…"

Her voice froze. Her smile froze. Her body froze at the door, and she stared dreadfully as she watched the blonde revolutionary slowly turning his back around, his face grimaced and serious.

"Enjolras?" She whispered under her breath, unfortunately it came out louder than she expected.

_Enjolras? The leader of the Les Amis de l'ABC? What is he doing here, in this despicable place?_ She wanted to scream and run away, but she is stuck at the door, unable to move. Éponine unconsciously took a step back and leaned against the door.

That's it. This is the end of her life. In a minute Enjolras would recognize her and when he returned, he would tell Marius everything. Marius would know she was working as a prostitute, and he would shun away from her like a disease. Sweet, pure Marius. She closed her eyes and tried to swallow her tears, but instead let out a small choking sound.

Meanwhile, the blonde young man examined her doubtfully, his eyebrows furrowed as he spoke. "How did you know my name? Did Grantaire speak with you before this? In the name of France, I swear I would behead him as soon as we get back."

Éponine blinked as her eyes grew wide. _What is going on in here?_


	3. With A Little Help From My Friends

**Thank you all so much for reading it and for the reviews! Y'all are what motivated me to keep on writing.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Les Miserables.**

* * *

**Chapter III. With A Little Help From My Friends**

_I get by with a little help from my friends_

_Get high with a little help from my friends_

_I'm gonna try with a little help from my friends_

_(With A Little Help From My Friends, The Beatles)_

* * *

**Two hours ago, at Café Musain.**

"Just speaking in public is not enough." Enjolras slam his fist down the wooden table. "We may grab their attention temporarily, but would they follow us until the end? We must think of a more effective method."

He folded his arms around his chest, waiting for the usual approval from his friends. There is some murmuring and a few heads nodded, but other than that, nothing like the sort of cheering and arguing that Enjolras witnessed when they first formed Les Amis de l'ABC.

"Must we use brutal force to achieve equality Enjolras?" said Combeferre. "Why can't we propose our ideas to the king in a civil and peaceful manner? You are always so angry Enjolras, I'm afraid it is rather a bit put-off for some."

Enjolras exhaled. "Combeferre, what makes you think I haven't done that? I have written countless letters to the king. The aristocrats, they do not want to change if it means giving up their benefits. They need a slap to the face, not holding hands and chanting slogans."

Combeferre murmured something incoherently, while Enjolras shifted his focus to Joly. At a table, Grantaire was passing a bottle of wine to Joly after drinking directly out of it. Joly looked at the bottle suspiciously.

"Are you sure you are not sick Grantaire?"

"Sweet Jesus Joly, just drink the damn thing!"

Courfeyrac snuck up from behind Enjolras. "Feeling a little tense?" he grinned mischievously.

"A little is an understatement Courfeyrac." Enjolras sighed heavily. "How can I hope to stir the people if I cannot even stir my friends?"

"If I were you I wouldn't worry too much. We have done a lot for the last couple of weeks. The boys are just a little bit distracted, they want to relax a bit that's all."

"Sometimes I feel like I'm the only one who is serious about this." Enjolras shook his head. "You know that there is a chance we are going to die, don't you Courfeyrac?"

"I am perfectly aware of that." Courfeyrac nodded. "But that doesn't stop me from enjoying life Enjolras. You are always so tense, I wonder how you manage to function."

"If by 'enjoying life' you mean getting involved with various women, I hardly see it enjoyable."

Courfeyrac chuckled. "You never know until you try."

The focus of the room shifted to a young man with freckles emerging from the stairs. He walked around absent-mindedly, completely oblivious to the scene around him.

"My god Marius, it's as if you have seen a ghost!" Grantaire laughed.

"Not a ghost." Marius smiled dreamily. "A beautiful mademoiselle."

Enjolras felt like slamming his forehead to the table. _The last thing we need here is another distraction_, he thought.

"You see?" Courfeyrac spread his arms while walking towards Marius. "Even Pontmercy here has fallen into the trap of love."

Enjolras watched the boys forming a circle around Marius, eager to hear about his mademoiselle.

Enjolras could not understand all this fuss about women. All the women Enjolras had encountered (mainly through his mother's obsession about finding him a aristocrat wife) appeared to be gossipy, shallow, too occupied with dresses and bonnets and gossips to have anything remotely interesting coming out of their little mouths.

"Maybe Enjolras…" Courfeyrac returned to his best friend. "You will understand if you come with me and Joly tonight. We plan on stopping by this inn after meeting here. We'll make sure you have a lovely female company to occupy yourself with. What do you think eh?" Courfeyrac winked.

"Not in a million years." Enjolras shook his head.

"Listen, I have told you multiple times that you need to relax for a bit. Your mind needs its rest before it can work properly. Maybe you have been too engulfed inside the same thoughts and patterns of thinking, you cannot get out of it. Just forget everything for one night, relax and maybe you will come up with something brilliant tomorrow and remind us why we are following you, eh?"

Enjolras remained silent, but the defiant look on his face has changed to one of more remorse. This is great, Courfeyrac thought. If I can get the Golden Boy to finally lose his virginity tonight, there is nothing more in life that I want to achieve. Courfeyrac decided to push it a little bit further.

"Just one night. Tomorrow me, Joly and the boys would pull ourselves together, what do you say?"

Enjolras sighed heavily. "What scheme do you have in mind Courfeyrac?"

"Just drinking and conversing with the ladies. Nothing too scandalous."

* * *

"I already paid for this, so enjoy yourself alright Enjolras?" Courfeyrac pushed Enjolras into a dim-lighted room then closed the door and locked it. Enjolras could hear Joly's laughter mixed with a high-pitched giggle in the back. He loved his friends to death, but right now he had the strongest urge to beat the shit out of them.

"So much for drinking and conversing." Enjolras mumbled. He settled down at a chair near the window and closely examined a candlestick within his reach.

Enjolras heard the knob on the door turn. The muscles on his shoulder suddenly tensed up, he could feel himself become more and more nervous. His palms were sweaty, no scratch that, Enjolras could feel sweats running down from his forehead.

_What am I going to do now_, Enjolras panicked. _I am not Courfeyrac, I don't know how to handle women._

He heard a female voice joyfully chirp, but was abruptly cut followed by a small choke. In a second Enjolras could swear he heard his name being called out.

_Well this is interesting_, he thought and slowly turned around. Standing at the door is a girl dressed in a tattered petticoat. The chemise hung loosely around her shoulder, as if suggesting that it once fitted her. Her huge brown eyes reflecting the candlelight, growing wide with what Enjolras could only interpret as surprise, but not the good kind.

For some reason she looked familiar to him. Enjolras searched his memory, but he could not recall any memory of her.

"How did you know my name?" He figured if she told him, he might have a chance to find out why her face seemed so familiar to him.

The girl stood at the door, still staring at him in amazement.

_This is getting a bit ridiculous,_ Enjolras thought. _Not at all enjoyable, mind you Courfeyrac._ He sighed heavily.

"Fine. Why don't you start by telling me your name then?"

The girl remained silent. She bit her lips and started darting her eyes around. He began to feel his patience slipping away.

"Mademoiselle, I don't know how you know my name, but I know why you are here. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I can assure you I do not like it any more than you do. You can leave if you want, my friend has already paid, and I will compensate you properly for the loss of your precious time. Do not feel insulted or take this personally, I was tricked to be here by my friends."

To his surprise, she stepped forward and sat down on the bed, facing him. Her expression relaxed a little bit and she spoke with a soft voice, almost raspy.

"I am not allowed to reveal my name, but Monsieur can call me Cassandra."

_So she refuses to answer why she knows my name_, he thought. _I won't push it any further, I won't torment this girl more than she already has been. She looks so young, hardly eighteen, seventeen even._

The thought of Cassandra's life saddened him. Here sitting in front of him, was the very embodiment of what he was fighting for. A victim of an unjust, privileged system.

"Cassandra." He nodded. "How do you do?"

"Not so good Monsieur." She snickered. "But let's not talk about me, yes? After all, I am here to entertain you. I'm sure my petty little life bears no interest to Monsieur."

"Contrary to your belief, Mademoiselle, your life is of every interest to me."

She giggled at the word mademoiselle, her eyes became warmed and playful. "You are so strange Monsieur. You act as if I am equal to you."

"Mademoiselle, you are just another citizen of Paris, no better or worse than me or anyone else."

In a minute, Cassandra looked both startled and as if she were to burst into tears at the same time. She whispered. "You're too kind Monsieur Enjolras. I am most grateful."

"What do you do for a living Mademoiselle? Besides, erm, this." He looked around rather awkwardly.

"Don't be embarrassed Monsieur. My occupation is hardly noble, but it helps me get through. In the day though." She smiled. "I have more freedom. I either wander around or I run errands for papa."

"What kind of errands?"

"Oh, nothing worth mentioning about. I deliver messages in and out of prisons, or sometimes they make me look through houses, to see if there's anything worth robbing."

Enjolras must have let his emotions get to his face, as Cassandra chuckled. "Such is the way of life Monsieur Enjolras. We do everything we can to survive. I'm not proud, but I don't condemn it either."

"I'm very sorry Mademoiselle." He said solemnly with fire in his eyes. "But things will change, very soon. There will come a day when everyone has food, shelter and a decent job, when everyone is equal and nobody will have to scratch for a few frances anymore."

"Said who?" she asked, amused by his little speech.

"Me." He smiled and slammed his fist down the soft surface of the bed. "Believe me Mademoiselle, I will do everything I can do make sure that future comes true."

Talking to Cassandra, witnessing the horror that was her life reminded Enjolras of the real reasons that he initially started Les Amis de l'ABC. A million of thoughts raged through his head, Enjolras was suddenly filled with solutions and future plans, clear as day.

"Mademoiselle, do you have a dream?" he asked spontaneously.

"Why Monsieur, you ask such odd questions. I cannot afford to have a dream."

"Surely you must have one. What if, given the chance, what would you want to do?"

Enjolras could see her eyebrows knitted as she was thinking very hard.

_A dream huh? _Éponine thought. She never gave the matter much thought. Nobody has ever cared about her dream. Nobody has ever cared about what she wanted to do in life, so it was natural that she should not care either. _But it doesn't have to be that way_, a little voice inside her whispered.

She sneakily glanced at the handsome young man facing her. His eyes burned with determination, his lips pressed together into a straight line, his face open and sincere. He really was honest in an almost childish way, he cared about what she had to say.

"I suppose…" she carefully sorted out the thoughts in her head. "I supposed if I could, I would want to open a bookshop."

"A bookshop?"

"Yes Monsieur." She grinned, thinking about the possibility of owning a bookshop, making decent money out of selling and managing books. Éponine suddenly stood up and spoke with much enthusiasm. "I love books, I love reading. Nothing would make me more happy than oh, owning a bookshop, then come home every evening to my husband and children. I would be most happy."

As though realizing that she was speaking loudly, Éponine sat down onto the bed and smile sheepishly. "What about you Monsieur? What is your dream?"

"My dream is to make your dream come true."

"Now Monsieur, you are teasing me and it's not funny."

"But Mademoiselle Cassandra, I am not. I believe that everyone should be able to follow their dream, that they should not be bound by their past or their social class."

_Well said Enjolras. Like the true revolutionary you are._

"That's a beautiful dream Monsieur. I am most grateful."

They continued talking as the night went on. Enjolras talked about the inner working of the French government, he passionately pointed out its faults and mentioned the superiority of a Republic system while Éponine, or should I say, Cassandra, listen and nodded in amazement and smiled encouragingly. He talked as if he was talking to a street full of people, as if he was talking to a Congress full of old aristocrats men, not a young prostitute with huge brown eyes.

He probably would have gone on all night if it hadn't been for Joly banging at the door, shouting. "Enjolras, we have to go. Come now."

Enjolras quickly stood up.

"I'm very sorry Mademoiselle, but my friend is calling me. I should go now."

"_Au revoir_ Monsieur Enjolras. I wish you the best." Éponine giggled as Enjolras shook her hand and kissed it. "May God bless you."

"_Au revoir_ Mademoiselle Cassandra. It was a pleasure talking to you."

Enjolras closed the door around him as he gave the innkeeper two napoleons, specified that it was for Mademoiselle Cassandra. The innkeeper shot a puzzled look at him but said nothing.

"So, Enjolras, how was your female company?" Courfeyrac winked mischievously.

"She was delightful, and I enjoyed myself tremendously, thank you very much."

Courfeyrac and Joly looked at each other with disbelief, their mouth hung open. Enjolras smirked, knowing the effect of his words had upon his friends. Joly dropped a coin onto Courfeyrac's palm, mumbling. "Fine. You won."

_Such children they are_, Enjolras shook his head disapprovingly, like a loving parent.

* * *

Éponine sank down into the bed. For the first time since she entered the room, she let herself relax and exhale. She could not believe her luck. Enjolras had not remembered her. She was too grateful and happy to feel at all insulted. Somebody like Enjolras must have had much more interesting and significant things to remember than a little gamine he met for some brief seconds. Still, she thought to herself, such luck was not allowed twice. She must be more careful from now on, to not run into Enjolras.

* * *

**So i hope Enjolras was not too OOC. He was gifted with oral speeches after all, and he was a charming young man ~ that's the only explanation I have for this little fluff ~ thank you for reading this ~**


	4. The Queen Of Heart

Chapter IV. The Queen Of Heart

_Desperado, why don't you come to your senses?  
You been out riding fences for so long now  
Oh, you're a hard one  
I know that you got your reasons  
These things that are pleasing you  
Can hurt you somehow_

(_Desperado, The Eagles_)

* * *

"Hmm. Wooden plates. Wooden spoons." Éponine poked her head into the cupboard, examining the place Patron-Minette had assigned to her. Babet had been somewhat upset at her slacking off. _That motherfucker, _she mouthed, touching the bruise that was dangerously darkening under the bang on her forehead.

"There is nothing of value here." She sighed. Éponine swiftly moved to another room. _Maybe they don't like fancy utensils and plates. Ah, now we're talking, _she purred, carefully lifted what appeared to be an exquisite antique lamp sitting on top of a dressing table. Éponine kept on looking for something more valuable, but the room was rather simple and chaste, with the exception of the lamp. She opened the closet hoping to find some sort of fashion collection, but contrary to her assumption, there were only two satin dresses and three taffeta nightgowns.

"Émilie?" Éponine heard a silvery voice coming from the front door. "Émilie I thought you went home?"

_Shit, _she muttered under her breath and ran towards the window. Éponine swiftly kicked her foot outside the window and jumped while maintaining her grip on the edge. The room luckily wasn't that high above the ground so Éponine let go of her grip and landed on a bush. _It's not like my dress is new or anything, _she thought as she observed some holes in her dress, obviously caused by the thorns. Straightening up her back, Éponine flattened her dress and was about to leave the garden when out the corner of her eyes, blond curls flashed under the sunlight.

_What. The hell? _Éponine gasped as she turned around. There, standing at the window, pure as the fresh snow, bright as the sun, was the object of Marius's affection, Miss Puffy Sleeves. The girl was gazing out into the garden, but since Éponine's dress was so dirty she blended easily into her surroundings.

_Well then. _Éponine sighed. _Marius, I found her._

_What now?_ She thought when she slowly climbed out the fence and made her way home. _Obviously I made a promise. I should go tell him. _

_But I don't want him to find Puffy Sleeves. Not yet_. She wanted Marius alone for herself. She knew the moment he found Puffy Sleeves would be the end for her chance to be with Marius. Not that she had much chance either. It just…_Was it too much to ask for a bit more chance?_

Éponine closed her eyes and shook her head. She tried to imagine Marius's face if she ever told him the news. Already, images of freckled nose, crinkled eyes and a broad smile flooded her mind. Éponine unconsciously smiled and brought a hand to her face.

_Yes, it would make him most happy. Shouldn't that be enough? Does my petty happiness matter enough to get in the way of his?_

_No, _she decided. _If it makes Marius happy, it will also make me happy. Marius matters more. It doesn't matter how I feel, and I already made a promise that I would do anything to make him happy._

* * *

Two days later she led Marius to Puffy Sleeves' place and observed as they met and slowly made conversation.

"My name is Marius Pontmercy."

"And mine is Cosette."

Cosette? Éponine gasped as her body slowly sank onto the ground. That little brat who used to hang around back in Monfermeil? The dirty miserable little brat that Maman used to boss around until it was purchased away?

Oh, she laughed bitterly, my my my. How ironic. Look who was pampered and who was miserable like a rag now. Éponine walked away and could not stop laughing. _Dear God high above, is this how you punish me for mistreating her back then? Is it really necessary? Have sufferings not been enough to repay for childish ignorance?_

It would be so easy to hate Cosette right now, she thought. The little brat, stealing Marius away from her. That alone should be enough to make Éponine want to tear Cosette into thousand pieces. Not to mention that the positions were completely reversed now. The shame made Éponine's face burned with heat.

Yet despite her effort, despite all logical rational reasons, when it came down to it somehow Éponine could not bring herself to hate Cosette. She kept thinking of how sad Cosette used to look, of how hopelessness used to fill her wide blue eyes. She kept thinking of the small figure struggling to lift the broomstick that was too big for her, of that dirty bundle of rags that the child used as a doll, carried in her hand and sang tenderly to it. Of Maman's cruel, ruthless words to the child that sometimes made even Éponine and Azelma cringe. Now that those words were being inflicted upon her, Éponine fathomed deeply what it must have felt like to be young Cosette. Yet somehow the little child turned out to be fine, robust even. Her eyes were warm and kind, her face round and sweet, her cheeks glowed with a healthy radiance, her voice clear and silvery – nothing like Éponine's raspy voice obviously resulted from cheap brandy. And undoubtedly, from the way her eyes had lighted up when Marius looked into them, from the way Marius had been absolutely, completely mesmerized with every word she said; Éponine could only conclude that the abuse young Cosette had received during childhood bore little effect on older Cosette. What a wonder, how that wretched child had turned out to be so fine and happy.

_As long as he is happy, I am happy, _she kept repeating to herself, knowing that she was only lying. A thousand daggers were stabbing into her heart. Éponine kept telling herself that her face was wet from the rain, the rain only, that it didn't taste salty. She thought about how large Marius's hands were on her small waist, how warm and firm his arms were when he pulled her into a hug. She smiled, but everything in front of her became more and more blurry until she could only make out small flickering lights dancing in the rain.

_It's just the rain, just the rain. Right? Proud Éponine, strong Éponine, fierce Éponine would never cry. _She hadn't let herself cry for years, ever since that night when Montparnasse took away her maidenhood, when she vowed to keep her heart close and guarded, when she swore that nobody would ever see her vulnerable.

_I love him. God I love him so. But only on my own._

* * *

_I should probably return this. _Éponine thought as she climbed up to Marius's apartment the next morning, holding _Agamemnon _in her right hand. Éponine wondered whether she should borrow the last two parts of the trio, she wanted to see how it would be resolved. But then again, it was not really a good time to keep pestering Marius. Éponine knocked on the door but there was no answer.

_He is probably busy with les amis. Or with Cosette. _The thought made her heart bitter. Éponine turned the knob and pushed the door open with little effort. Marius was never careful enough to lock the door properly. He was a rich little young boy at heart, naïve and trusting about the world around him. That's probably why Éponine was so drawn to him. To see somebody so honest and trusting was a fresh experience from the people she associated with.

She looked around his apartment, wondering if this would be the last time she came here. Surely Marius would not want her here if he happened to invite Cosette over. It was another painful realization. Éponine bit her lips and tried to swallow the lump that was slowly making its way up her throat.

"Marius I swear to France, this is the last time…" a stoic voice came from behind her then abruptly stopped. Éponine stood frozen by the bookshelf, the _Agamemnon _still in her hand.

_No, _she panicked, recognizing the voice. _No, it can't be._

"Marius is not here." She uttered, dared not to turn around.

"I can see that." The voice responded calmly.

"…"

"Turn around." The voice hardened.

"No." she replied stubbornly, but her legs were shaking. She wanted to open the window and jump down, but Marius's apartment was on the third floor. She was not sure if she wanted to risk breaking her leg. Or her neck.

_What are you doing Éponine? You can't run away now. Running away would only make it worse._

"Is that _Agamemnon _that you're holding?"

"…"

_Turn around, make up some sort of lie and deal with this like a grown-up, goddamn it Éponine!_

"Please Mademoiselle, would you please turn around so that we could talk in a civilized manner?"

Slowly and painfully, she turned around so that she could face the young blonde revolutionary standing behind her. The expression on his face was one that Éponine could not read? Shock? Surprise? Disgust? Loath? Disappointment?

"So…" he snickered. "_Agamemnon _huh?"

She did not dare to speak, the shame was too big for her to absorb. Enjolras shook his head and placed his hands on his hips.

"Cassandra?" He stared at her. "Priam's daughter?"

"The mad prophet, yes." She stared back, unsure why.

"I remember you." He said. "You were here once, reading _Agamemnon. _Marius said something about you and your hobby of reading."

"That is correct Monsieur."

"I should have known. That's why your face was so familiar." He mumbled.

"I'm very sorry." She declared coldly and placed the book on the shelf. "I didn't mean to lie to you. Actually I did not. I did say Cassandra was not my real name."

"What is your real name then?"

"Éponine."

"Just Éponine?"

"What are you? Just Enjolras?" she snapped back. It came out harsher than she intended it to be.

To her surprised, Enjolras took no offense and only nodded. He turned around and started heading towards the door.

_Is that it? _She freaked out. _Is he going to let me go that easily?_

"Wait!" she cried out. "Please, stop!"

He stopped walking and turned around.

"Will you tell Marius?"

In a second, his expression softened and became more sympathetic as he looked at her. "Is Marius why you're here?"

Éponine was irritated by this sudden invasive question. "Why are you here then?"

"Same reason." Éponine decided to ignore this remark. "I was looking for Marius, he hasn't been to our meetings for several days. I thought I could find him here."

"I'm very sorry." She had an idea of where he might be, or what he might be doing. Whether it included a blonde two a penny bourgeois thing or not, she did not want to think about it.

"Do you happen to know his whereabouts?"

"Probably. Maybe."

For a moment they stood there, staring at each other until Enjolras stepped ahead, reached out and touched the large bruise that was beginning to form on her forehead.

"Rough night?" he asked.

"Quite, but not from what you're thinking of." She brushed off his hand rather defensively. "You haven't answered my question." For a little rat on the street Éponine sure had some nerve when she talked to rich aristocratic boys. "Will you tell Marius?"

"No." he declared simply, taking a step back.

"Why?"

"Because there is nothing worth talking about."

Éponine was not sure whether she should be insulted or not. Enjolras must have realized this, as he corrected himself. "What I mean is, there is nothing shocking or harmful that I should feel the need to warn Marius about."

She bit her lips. "But I'm a prostitute." Éponine shook her head. "Don't you understand? I'm filthy. I'm disgusting. I should not be around Marius and taint him with my presence. I'm sure Marius would not want me around, knowing that I'm a prostitute."

"Marius is somewhat still too Bonapartist and raw to understand this, I know." Enjolras stared at her, his eyes piercing through her detached expression. "However mademoiselle, I remain firm in my opinion. You are just another citizen of Paris, no better…"

"…Or worse than anyone else, I know I know." She smiled tiredly, but her face softened. "You always tell me that."

"Only because I believe it's true." He replied. "I may not know about your circumstances, but I believe that you did not choose to do this, and that only because of circumstances were you forced to be in such position."

She was silent, in awe of what he was saying. _Is this man too good to be true or what?_ She lied to him, manipulated him, interrogated him, yet there he was, defending her from herself.

"There is nothing wrong or immoral about you Éponine. The only immorality here is the inequality thrust upon you."

"Hmph."

"So no, I will not tell Marius." He concluded. "Now if you excuse me, I am rather busy right now. I must go."

"Thank you." She muttered as he started walking towards the door. Enjolras nodded silently and closed the door. She stood by the window and watched Enjolras blending into the crowd, his blond messy curls flying in the wind.

_What a strange man_, she thought to herself, a smile slowly crept on her face.


	5. Her Latest Trick

**A little note referring to the last chapter: for those of you who do not know, Cassandra is the name of one of the main characters in the play ****_Agamemnon, _****written by Aeschylus (Jehan learned Greek just to read Aeschylus, remember?). Cassandra is a princess of Troy, she is gifted with prophecy and she is extremely beautiful but since she refused to have sex with Apollo, the little asshole cursed her so that nobody would believe her prophecy, thus everyone believes that she is mad.**

**Sorry for this extremely long note ~~~ thank you all so much for the favorite/follow/reviews!**

**Chapter V. Her Latest Trick.**

_I don't know how it happened  
It all took place so quick  
But all I can do is hand it to you  
And your latest trick_

_(Your Latest Trick, Dire Straits)_

* * *

"How's the weapons Bahorel?" asked Enjolras.

"So far I have been able to gather 10 rifle guns, 5 pistols and fifteen hails of bullets." Reported Bahorel.

"Fifteen hails are hardly sufficient." His brows furrowed. "What about the gun powder?"

"I could only get a barrel." Bahorel shook his head. "Some how all the gun shops in Paris are very reluctant to sell massive amount of weapons to schoolboy look-alikes."

"Words about the revolution must have gotten out." Sighed Enjolras. "It can gain us more followers and also more enemies, depending on the people's attitude right now. Well." He concluded. "We must make good use of what we possess. Let's not waste any bullet or hastily throw away a pistol."

Bahorel nodded. At the same time Marius was sitting at a table nearby, writing ferociously onto a piece of paper.

_I'll be damned if that's a love letter, _thought Enjolras, although judging through the passionate expression on Marius's face it could hardly be anything but a love letter. Marius folded the paper in half and put it in an envelope. He reached out for the candle, dropped some wax onto the back of the envelope to seal off the letter. At the same time, Enjolras noticed a small figure emerging from the stairs.

"Monsieur Marius?" The raspy voice immediately caught Enjolras's attention. He stopped looking at the map, all the while Marius stood up and rushed to the little girl standing awkwardly on the step, holding the letter in his hand.

"Good gracious, here we go." Courfeyrac mumbled under his breath. "Looks like Pontmercy has found his lady interest after all. I pity the girl."

Grantaire chuckled. "Quite the Romeo is he?"

Enjolras caught Éponine's eyes as she was looking for Marius. Her eyes were apologetic, as if she was saying, "I'm sorry if this is interfering with your revolution." Enjolras shook his head disapprovingly and frowned, while Éponine shrugged. "I'm very sorry." She mouthed to him.

"Who are you looking at?" asked Joly.

"Nobody." He answered hastily. "Speaking of which, I haven't asked you about the medical supply."

"It will suffice." Nodded Joly. "I cannot guarantee that I will be able to save everyone, that is to say if you've got a bullet in your heart I wouldn't be able to do anything about it, but otherwise, you have nothing to worry about Enjolras."

"Good. As long as you remember Joly…"

"I know I know. I have to stay in the back." Groaned Joly. "I cannot believe everyone gets to fight while I have to stay back."

"This is not a children's game Joly." Reminded Enjolras, putting a hand on Joly's shoulder. "You are just as important as the rest of us. If Grantaire gets a bullet in his leg as the idiot that he is, we shall have to count on you to make sure that he doesn't bleed to death."

Joly nodded in satisfaction. Marius returned to his seat, his face expressed an emotional turmoil inside.

* * *

At the next several meetings, the usual oblivious Enjolras began to take notice of a new presence. It appeared as a small boy in the uniform of a workman, always followed after Marius when he walked in. The uniform hung loosely on the boy's small frame, the boy looked like he was swimming in it rather. A cap kept Enjolras from having a good look at his face. He hardly ever talked, in fact Enjolras had never heard the boy talk loudly unless if he was conversing with Marius. Now that he thought about it, Enjolras hardly ever saw the boy left Marius's side. The two usually sat with each other, Marius writing letters while the boy mouthed something into Marius's ear. However, he would listen very assiduously whenever Enjolras talked. That's why Enjolras hardly made the effort to question the boy himself.

Today was no exception, as the little boy was focusing on Marius's letter and picked up a pen, either to scratch out something or to write something on the letter as he read.

"Pontmercy." Chimed in Grantaire. "How is everything with your mistress?"

"She is not my mistress!" roared Marius. "Honestly Grantaire, my intention towards her is the purest, most noble…"

"Maybe Pontmercy," sneered Enjolras. "If you are as devoted to our cause as you are to your lady friend, I will sleep a bit more sound at night. You hardly paid attention to what I have to say at all, unlike your little friend here."

The whole room's attention suddenly shifted to the little figure, still reading Marius's letter. It seemed like Enjolras wasn't the only one who was oblivious to this new presence. In a far corner, Joly mouthed to Bossuet. "Who in the world is that?" Bossuet replied with a shrug. "First time I ever notice him. Must have been here for a while."

The little boy must have felt the gaze on his neck as he stopped reading and looked up awkwardly. Courfeyrac called out.

"Boy, what are you reading?"

"I'm…I'm not sure if Monsieur Marius would want me to reveal the content of this letter, Monsieur Courfeyrac." He stammered.

_Why does that voice sound so familiar? _Enjolras frowned. _I feel like I have heard it somewhere before._

_Wait, that sounded familiar too. The last time I had this thought…_

Enjolras's stream of thoughts was interrupted by the new madness that took place in Café Musain. Enjolras looked up to see Marius trying to hold Bahorel back, at the same time Grantaire was chasing the little boy around the café. The little boy clutched the letter to his chest while running at an incredible speed, avoiding the chairs and tables swiftly like a little cat.

_Jesus Christ, _Enjolras was exasperated, _sometimes I feel like I'm babysitting, not governing a group of grown men._

Enjolras saw the little boy unconsciously run towards him. Without thinking, Enjolras reached out and grabbed the boy by his arm violently as he ran by. The sudden force combined with the boy's incredible momentum shook the cap out of his head, revealing frocks of long brown hair. The café, a minute ago filled with shouts and laughters, now fell into silence. Somewhere in the back, Courfeyrac let out a small whim.

"A woman! No, a girl!" exclaimed Bahorel. "Mademoiselle, what are you doing here? This is no place for a lady."

Éponine shrugged off Enjolras's hand on her arm and regained her compose. "I am no lady." She said while looking into Enjolras's eyes defiantly. He shook his head while putting his palm on his forehead.

"You are indeed troublesome, Mademoiselle Éponine." Murmured Enjolras.

"You two know each other?" asked a confused Joly. "How come?"

Éponine started to look panic, while Enjolras struggled to find a proper explanation. Luckily, Marius saved them both the trouble.

"Les Amis, meet my friend Éponine Jondrette. I introduced them two to each other a while ago, I am surprised you still remember her Enjolras."

"She is very remarkable, indeed." Enjolras said sarcastically while Éponine rolled her eyes. "Look Mademoiselle Éponine, Bahorel said it himself, the meetings are strictly for members of Les Amis de l'ABC only. It is no place for a lady, and certainly not politics for that matter either. Go home Éponine."

"Now hold on a minute, you said that we were born equal, that we were all children of God." Snapped Éponine, her eyes burning. "Did you actually believe in it, or were they just mere pretty words? What makes me different than you, or Monsieur Marius for that matter?"

"Éponine, the battlefield is a dangerous place. All the members of Les Amis know what they're getting themselves into. There is a high possibility that we might die, and we're ready to sacrifice. You, on the other hand, Éponine. Already as young and slim as you are, you will not provide any help, and you are likely to get in the way." Asserted Enjolras coldly.

"You are wrong Monsieur Enjolras." She stomped her feet. "Small I may be, but I am brave and strong. You once said you believed in a world where everyone would have food and a roof above their head, and you wanted to make it happen. Well I want to make it happen too, and I'm tired of letting other people decide my fate for me. For once in my life Monsieur Enjolras," Éponine yelled. "I would like to take control of my life, and fight for me and my sister's lives. Why is that not a good enough reason?"

For the first time, Enjolras did not know how to answer. He stood there as Les Amis gazed at them.

Gavroche chose just the right time to bust into the café. Looking at his sister in the center of attention, the kid let out a small cry.

" 'Ponine! What are you doing here?!"

" 'Vroche?" Éponine turned around, surprised. "What are _you _doing here, for that matter?"

"I'm here for the revolution 'Ponine."

"You let my little brother in and not me?!" Éponine turned around, stomping her feet angrily. "Now what kind of justice is that, I demand an answer!" she hissed, looking around the café. The barricade boys looked frightened, while Enjolras instinctively took a step back.

"Gavroche proved himself to be useful, Éponine." Answered Enjolras. "The little boy knows his way around."

"So do I!" she exclaimed. "Even more so, provided that I was born before him, and that papa and maman leave the more dangerous, complicated jobs to me. Listen, I can be of help. Tell me a problem that you have. There must be something that I can do about it."

"Well" Bahorel hesitated. "We are in need of weapon supply. We don't have enough bullets and pistols, and we have but a small amount of gun powder. But I don't suppose…"

"Chenevert." Éponine replied. "Montparnasse buys massive amount of weapon from him and sells it to the military. Chenevert stores bullets in barrels, and he doesn't care who's the buyer as long as you pay him on time. I know all the nice weapon stores in Paris have been alarmed of young revolutionaries." She smirked. "I'll lead you to him."

"Who is Montparnasse?" Enjolras questioned.

"Nobody you should know." Éponine glared at him.

"I feel like this is not very legal…" Jehan mumbled.

"You are organizing an uprising under the king's nose and you wonder whether it's legal or not?" Éponine raised one of her eyebrows. Jehan mumbled something incoherently under his breath. Éponine turned back to Enjolras triumphantly.

"You see? If you need more followers, I know people who are dissatisfied with the king and the government. I can lead you to them."

Enjolras knitted his eyebrows, thinking very hard. This girl was indeed stubborn and passionate, certainly more passionate than Grantaire. She had a good point about his promise of equality. To deny her of such access while granting her little brother would be to go back on his words. Besides, she had proven herself to be of use.

_But_, he thought, _something is still not right._

_Maybe I just don't want her to die._

Enjolras shook his head. Lack of sleep sure caused him some weird thoughts.

"Enjolras." Combeferre stepped up an put his arm around Enjolras's shoulders. "I think it's best that you let Mademoiselle Éponine stay. She is certainly very useful and she is with nothing but best intentions. I have nothing against her. Does anyone here have anything against Mademoiselle Éponine as a member of the Les Amis?" he shouted to the rest of the café. Some shook their heads, other just shrugged while Courfeyrac shouted back.

"Not to me, especially."

The whole café bursted into laughter, even Éponine managed to smile while Enjolras shot Courfeyrac a warning look. Courfeyrac raised his arms innocently and sat down on a chair.

"Well, then it's settled." Combeferre smiled. "We hold nothing against Mademoiselle Éponine. The decision is purely yours now chief."

Enjolras sighed heavily. "If the people desire so, then there's nothing I can do but to obey the people's will."

The boys cheered in approval, especially Courfeyrac and Marius. Éponine clasped her hands to her mouth, she could not believe that Enjolras finally gave in. She threw her arms around his neck in this sudden burst of joy.

"Thank you, thank you so much Monsieur Enjolras!" she rejoiced. "I promise, you will never be disappointed in me!"

"Alright." he tried to detangle himself from her arms. "Everyone else, get back to work now. Éponine, let me go. Let. Me. Go." He grunted as he was struggling to fight her embrace. Grantaire laughed while Combeferre smiled at her encouragingly. Éponine let go of Enjolras and threw her arms around Combefere's waist, planting a kiss on his right cheek. His face reddened and he murmured something incoherently. Éponine grinned, she could not contain her happiness inside her small body.

_This is madness, pure madness. _Enjolras shook his head, looking at the small girl now joyfully chirping to Marius nearby. Instinctively, the corners of his mouth curled up to resemble a small smile. Nobody else seemed to notice but Courfeyrac, who was carefully observing Enjolras's reactions from a distance.

_This is getting more interesting than ever, _thought Courfeyrac.


	6. This Dusky Jewel

**Thank you all so much for the kind reviews/following/favorite. Some of you even figured out what I planned out for this story *wink wink* but I'm not confirming anything. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this.**

**Chapter 6. This Dusky Jewel**

_She's walking down the street_

_Blind to every eye she meets_

_Do you think you'll be the guy_

_To make the queen of the angels sigh?_

_ (...)_

_Sidewalk crouches at her feet_

_Like a dog that begs for something sweet_

_Do you hope to make her see, you fool?_

_Do you hope to pluck this dusky jewel?_

_(Hello I Love You, The Doors)_

* * *

Enjolras might have been the oblivious fool, but that's the reason why Courfeyrac was needed there. Courfeyrac knew the new girl hadn't been accepted among the boys' club. Yet. Although Bahorel seemed impressed and respectful, Combeferre civilized and warm whenever she talked to him, the rest of the Les Amis was uncomfortable around her. Prouvaire, having been shut off by her the night she joined Les Amis, was intimidated and avoided Éponine as much as possible. Grantaire did not trust her, she came and left irregularly and always disappeared into thin air when least expected, as if she was a shadow. Now that Éponine did not have to wear the baggy workman uniform anymore, she moved swiftly among the chairs and tables, quietly into the dark only to leave the boys perplexed when they turned around and saw nobody. Her abnormal behavior did not bother Enjolras, after all she was there when needed, she listened to him voraciously and talked only when she was asked – mostly about rumors on the streets of Paris. Pontmercy only came to her when he needed her – poor girl, running in and out of the café carrying Pontmercy's letters like a pigeon. The rest of the boys were terrified – they did not foresee such forcefulness and spirit when the cap fell out of her head revealing her true identity. It took them exactly 2 minutes to transform their suppressed laughter and snicker to complete frightfulness when she stomped her feet and demanded to be treated fairly.

They didn't see her scraped elbows, the dark circles under her eyes, the faded various bruises on her arms and the one on her forehead – they might also have seen it and chose not to notice, Courfeyrac was not sure. She was also ridiculously small for a girl her age, her waist is so tiny even though she was not wearing any corset. Courfeyrac felt pity for her – not that he showed it, he noticed the quiet pride in her eyes when she talked to him, as if she dared him to suggest out loud that she was lesser than him in any way. In fact, she was as prideful as ever when she talked to any barricade boys but that fool Pontmercy. Courfeyrac was almost sure she was helplessly in love with Pontmercy. When Éponine was around Pontmercy, she suddenly transformed into another creature, her eyes shone with laughter, her lips smiled easily and she spoke with more grace, more tenderness. This girl truly intrigued him, she was an enigmatic creature, not that Courfeyrac was romantically interested in her. He was perplexed at how willing Enjolras was to listen to her. Normally Enjolras would not dare to look at a female above her feet, but somehow Éponine always managed to make him look her in the eyes when they spoke to each other. Enjolras listened to her attentively and with respect, and that was enough for Courfeyrac to trust her. Still, she did not talk much, which might be the cause of her isolation from the boys. But tonight, Courfeyrac decided, thing would change.

As soon as Éponine quietly sat down a chair near Pontmercy, Courfeyrac pulled over another and settled down next to her.

"Mademoiselle Éponine, I don't think we were properly introduced." He said, flashing a smile.

"I know who you are Monsieur Courfeyrac." She smiled, still not looking at him. "You are quite famous among the ladies in Paris."

"But Mademoiselle, I and my friends have yet to know about you." Still maintaining the smile on his face, Courfeyrac reached out and placed his hands on her hands on her lap. "Please, we would be so rude to have you as a friend yet not knowing anything about you. We're ecstatic to know."

This gesture alarmed the girl, she looked down to her lap in surprise then finally to Courfeyrac's face. _Success! _Courfeyrac smiled triumphantly.

"Well, I can assure you Monsieur, my life is not at all exciting." Éponine hesitated. "There is nothing worth knowing about."

"Oh nonsense. We all heard your little speech the day you joined us. Bahorel told me he had never seen such quality gunpowder and that many kinds of pistols before. Now, what's a lady doing in the business of firearm? What do you do when we turn around and suddenly you're not there anymore?"

"I am no lady." Éponine waved. "About that question, Monsieur Courfeyrac, some things are better left unknown."

"But Mademoiselle Éponine…"

"Cut it out Courfeyrac." Enjolras walked over and stood next to Éponine. "You are making Mademoiselle Éponine uncomfortable. If she does not want to talk about

it, I suggest that you leave her alone."

"Wow there golden boy." Courfeyrac raised his arms slightly above his head. "I was not trying to make her uncomfortable, I was trying to be friendly."

"Mademoiselle Éponine will tell you if she wants to." Enjolras glared at his best friend. "But for now, you'd better not pester her anymore."

"It's quite alright Monsieur Enjolras." Éponine responded. "I'm sure Monsieur Courfeyrac meant no harm. While I appreciate your gesture, there is no need to protect me."

Enjolras shook his head and walked away. "If you insist, Mademoiselle Éponine."

* * *

"Whatever is the matter with you?" she hissed to him when almost everyone left, with the exception of Courfeyrac, Bahorel and Feuilly still conversing in a far corner. "I can handle Courfeyrac, I did not need your help."

"Forgive me if I offended you in any way." He stared at her. "I did not want to open a conversation that would most likely lead to the discussion of…ahem…that night." Enjolras awkwardly addressed the event.

She bit her lips and looked down. They both knew what he was talking about. The night Courfeyrac took him to her father's inn. The night she first got to know him. The night somebody actually showed some interest in her life.

"Was it that repulsive to you?" she whispered.

He shook his head. "No, not at all. Please don't take it like that. But I'd prefer if my personal life wasn't open for to discuss in public."

Éponine nodded. "I understand."

"Although I must say." He replied while rearranging the pile of papers and books on the table. "For the last few days you have been very different from what I remember that night."

"How so?" she looked up and smirked.

"You are…" he bit his lips while trying to find words to say. "Fiercer. More argumentative."

"Well Monsieur Enjolras." She laughed. "My job that night was to entertain you. I must act in a way that pleases you best, to make money out of you. Such is the way of life."

"Then I must inform you that you were wrong." He put the papers in the briefcase.

"Excuse me?" Éponine asked, her eyes widened.

Enjolras replied, still not looking at her. "I prefer the fierce, opinionated you. Such are the qualities that Les Amis is really looking for right now. We need a thinker, somebody who can bring something to the table, not merely a blind follower."

Enjolras picked up his briefcase and tilted his head. "Good night Mademoiselle Éponine." And away he went, leaving a perplexed Éponine behind.

* * *

At the same time.

"Alright gentlemen, listen to me." Courfeyrac spoke to Bahorel and Feuilly. "Are you as curious about Mademoiselle Éponine as I am?"

"To some degree I guess." Replied Feuilly. "Sometimes she shows up in the morning with hay in her hair. I wonder if she doesn't have a bed to sleep in."

"I am honestly impressed. She knows more about pocket knife and switchblade than anyone I know." Exclaimed Bahorel. "And the quality of the gunpowder, _mon dieu_."

"So this is what I have in mind." Whispered Courfeyrac, while glancing at Éponine and Enjolras talking. "Bear with me gentlemen. I say, why don't we follow her home and see where she lives? Obviously she's no aristocratic lady, but I sense that her life is more fascinating than she claims."

Feuilly and Bahorel looked at Courfeyrac, obviously weighing the offer. Courfeyrac pushed it a bit further. "I mean, we have nothing else to do all night. Bahorel, I know you're restless and I don't want you to get in another random fight tonight." He looked at his two friends. "It's gonna be an adventure. It'll be exciting. Trust me."

Bahorel's eyes shone at the mention of adventure and Courfeyrac knew he succeeded.

"Look she's leaving." Feuilly point at the staircase as Éponine was descending.

"Then we'd better act soon." Courfeyrac smiled mischievously.


	7. Her Laughters and Her Tears

**Chapter 7. Her Laughter and Her Tears**

_She  
May be the beauty or the beast  
May be the famine or the feast  
May turn each day into a heaven or a hell_

_(...)_

_She who always seems so happy in a crowd  
Whose eyes can be so private and so proud  
No one's allowed to see them when they cry_

_(She, Elvis Costello)_

* * *

Éponine slowly walked along the Seine, her feet trying to follow the straight line drawn by the sidewalk bricks. With her arms slightly lifted, she suddenly spun around, taken by the sensation of the night wind, the smell of the water, the dust dancing in the yellow streetlight. For a second, memories of ballet lessons from her early wealthy life came back to her and she spun again and again, each time less cautiously, taking large steps while she spun. She did not care what she might look like to street passengers, once one had sunk to the level as hers, the least thing to worry about was public image. The happy memories caused her such remorse that she wondered how she could simultaneously feel so many conflicting emotions at the same time. She suddenly had the strongest urge to run really fast, run away from Paris, creating a new life for herself somewhere else and never to return. But before she could take a step, her hands were abruptly gripped by a strong force from behind. She could feel Montparnasse's fishy breath on her neck and cringed. The vivid images of her memories and fantasies were blown away like candles in the wind, Éponine was back again on the riverside. Paris was hostile to her and the night wind was cruel. Azelma needed her care and support, without her Azelma would certainly take up her place and that was the last thing she wanted for her little sister. Marius did not need her, not in the future, but she would like to imagine that for now he needed her to contact Cosette.

Suddenly she was struck with the realization of how little she meant to the world. There was only one person for whom she cared about and needed her. Montparnasse lusted after her, but it would be easy to replace her once she was gone. Nobody would notice nor care if she disappeared right this moment.

_Enjolras would notice. Combeferre would notice. Enjolras would be very disappointed if you were to disappear. _A small voice whispered inside her but she wondered how much she could believe it. Surely she had formed a comfortable companionship with Combeferre, she liked talking to him about her philosophy of life. It usually contrasted with his and raised some interesting conversations but would he be remorse if she were gone? Or would he sigh for a second or two then continue with his life unaffected?

About Enjolras, she did not know what to make of the man. There existed a weird friendship between the two of them. They were simultaneously close and distant at the same time. He was a private, serious man and she respected that, she never asked invasive questions. However, she could not help but feel like the bond between them went deeper than mere acquaintance. Perhaps it was the secrets that they shared. He knew what she did every night when she left café Musain to come back home. He knew behind the tough, proud exterior she put up, Éponine was deeply disappointed with her life and there was a hint of self-loathe in everything she said. But what did she know about him? Not much, aside from that night.

Montparnasse wrapped his arms around her waist and tightened the grip.

"Good evening Montparnasse." She sighed. "Is this how it's usually done? Sneaking up people from behind and cut their throat?"

"Dearest Éponine, why must you be so hard on me?" he chuckled. "You know your life could be so much easier if you would just subordinate to me. I'd buy you new dresses and you would eat three times a day. Wouldn't you want that?"

"I'd rather die." Was her reply. She couldn't care less if her dress was dirty and ragged, and she was used to being hungry.

"Sometimes…" he breathed into her ear. "I wonder if I should use more force on you."

With that she felt the cold sharp edge of a switchblade on the skin of her neck. Éponine rolled her eyes.

"If you think you could scare me with this, you could not be more wrong."

Éponine was about to hit him in the groin when suddenly; out of nowhere, she heard a male voice yelling out.

"Stop!"

Montparnasse spun her around, causing the blade to sink deeper into her throat. Éponine cursed under her breath. Alone she could take down Montparnasse, he was usually easy on her and she fought dirty. But now some idiot had to step in and complicate everything.

Turned out, it wasn't one but two idiots. She shook her head as Courfeyrac and Feuilly stepped ahead.

"Monsieur, I ask you to drop the knife and release the lady this instant." Courfeyrac shouted.

"You know these two?" Montparnasse asked her.

"No." she murmured. "Why would I know them?"

Montparnasse looked at her skeptically then yelled at Courfeyrac and Feuilly. "What if I don't?"

Before Éponine could react, she felt the force of a hard blow to Montparnasse's head from behind. He crumbled to the ground, unconscious. Éponine ran towards Courfeyrac as fast as possible. Bahorel followed her with a satisfied look on his face.

"Is he dead?" asked Feuilly worriedly.

"I don't think so." Bahorel shook his head. "But he would be lying there for a good while."

"What is this?" she took a step away from them. "What are you three doing here? How did you find me?" she shot them a nasty look. "Explain."

"We followed you here." Feuilly blurted out, at the same time Courfeyrac exclaimed. "We were just taking a walk along the Seine!"

She arched an eyebrow. "Well?"

"Seriously Feuilly?" Courfeyrac glared at his friend. "All right, guilty as charged. We followed you here."

"May I ask, for what reason Monsieur Courfeyrac?" she put her hands on her hips and tapped her feet, like when she was about to lecture Azelma or Gavroche.

"We wanted to find out where you lived." Feuilly answered, his eyes casted down. "I'm very sorry Mademoiselle Éponine, we shouldn't have."

"Now wait a second." Bahorel chimed in. "What do you mean we shouldn't have? We saved her life!"

"I could have saved myself without the assistant of you idiots!" Éponine snapped. "I know Montparnasse. He would not actually cut my throat. And it's not like I cannot protect myself. But you three, you and your hero complex, had to jump in and be all dramatic! How long have you been following me?!"

There was no answer as the three schoolboys stood there awkwardly, scratching their heads. Éponine could almost laugh at how absurd the situation was. She was barely seventeen and they have all passed their twentieth birthday, yet there they stood, three grown up men, heads down as she was scolding them. But she was too angry to let herself laugh. It was enough that Enjolras knew about her occupation, if you could still call it an occupation. She did not want any of the Les Amis to find out about her shameful life. Once it'd gotten out, it certainly would be difficult to control and the next thing she knew, Marius was going to find out. She definitely did _not_ need that.

"Let me guess." She snickered. "Since I left Café Musain?"

There were some murmur but she didn't bother listening. "Monsieur Courfeyrac, I understand you were unsatisfied with my less than detailed answer from before, but was it really necessary for you to follow me?"

"We just wanted to help you." He pleaded and looked at her with those puppy dog eyes. "Please Mademoiselle Éponine, don't be at all offended. You look too thin and your complexion is hardly healthy. We just wanted to find out about your situation and see if there was anything we could do."

"That, Monsieur Courfeyrac, is none of your concern!" Éponine yelled. "My private life is mine to care about only. Please, I really don't need more people butt into my life and complicate it more than it already is."

"We're very sorry Mademoiselle Éponine." Mumbled Feuilly.

His guilty face softened Éponine's anger and she dropped the hands from her hips. After all, they did save her life and they were with good intentions, though their actions were stupid. Her face relaxed and she spoke with a warmer tone.

"All right. Well now that you have followed me here, what do you make of me now?"

"Mademoiselle Éponine, where are you going to sleep tonight?" asked Feuilly all of a sudden. Éponine blinked with surprise. She almost wanted to say none of your business out of reflex, but she restrained herself and told herself to be more civilized. _They just wanted to help_, she reminded herself.

"Where do you think Monsieur Feuilly?" she answered with a half smirk, glancing at the bridge nearby. Feuilly gasped with surprise.

"Surely you mustn't!" he exclaimed. "What about your home?"

"I don't want to go home tonight." She shook her head.

For a while they just stood there, Feuilly concerned, Bahorel awkward, Courfeyrac thoughtful and Éponine gloomy.

"If I may, Mademoiselle Éponine." Courfeyrac started. "Surely we cannot let you sleep under the bridge tonight, it would be so inconsiderate of us."

Éponine just looked at him, encouraging him to talk more. _Go on, _her eyes told him.

"We wonder if, if you would be so kindly to accept our offer, to spend the night somewhere else more proper."

"Where?" Feuilly asked confusedly.

"Enjolras's apartment of course!" Courfeyrac exclaimed, his eyes enthusiastic. "For all I know, he lives alone in a rather spacious place. Though it's not extensively decorated and rather chaste – like the man himself" Courfeyrac murmured disapprovingly. "– surely he must have room for one more."

"No!" cried Éponine. "Absolutely not!" She was horrified with the idea of spending a night in the same place with Enjolras. It sure would be the most uncomfortable experience she ever had to go through. Besides, she was certain that he would not allow such a thing.

"Mademoiselle Éponine, it is inhumane for you to spend the night at a place so cold and dirty." Persuaded Courfeyrac. "Please, just for one night. It breaks my heart just to think about you sleeping under that bridge."

Éponine narrowed her eyes. "Monsieur Courfeyrac, are you scheming something?"

Courfeyrac look appalled as he answered. "Why, Mademoiselle Éponine, you think the worst of me! What do you think I can get out of this?"

She looked at him skeptically and weighed the offer. The hard and uneven surface of the riverside was less than ideal, and suddenly she craved the softness and warmth that a couch (she assumed she would be sleeping on a couch) could offer. Éponine was tempted, very tempted.

It must have shown on her face as Courfeyrac leaned in. "How about this, Mademoiselle Éponine. We would take you out for dinner, then after you're full, you could think more clearly and you'd consider my offer again. Shall we?" he smiled pleadingly, and she couldn't help but smile back. Courfeyrac was the master of persuasion as far as she witnessed. Besides, her stomach suddenly growled very loudly and she let out a small cry of horror.

"I think that's settled." Smiled Courfeyrac. "Shall we head towards the Maxim?"

"The Maxim?!" her eyes opened wide. "Monsieur Courfeyrac, you cannot be serious. They would throw me out in the blink of an eye. The place is too fancy for a street rat like me."

"Don't worry Mademoiselle Éponine." Courfeyrac assured her. "I'm a regular guest at the Maxim. They would never insult a friend of mine. You're safe with me."

"You'd better be as good as your claim Monsieur Courfeyrac." Éponine shook her head, but inside she could feel a warmth directed towards the gentlemen walking beside her. Bahorel offered her his arm to lean on and she took it with an amused smile.

* * *

Courfeyrac looked at the small girl almost swallow the piece of steak whole, while gulping down wine at an alarming speed that could rival Grantaire. So far she had eaten as much as three grown men combined. Soon enough Éponine slowed down once the hunger had subsided and ate with more grace. She had good table manner, Courfeyrac noticed. When she was not starving, there was almost an elegance in the way she cut the meat and lifted the wine glass. She must not have grown up as a street rat though she may look ragged and poor. Something tragic must have happened to her family to drive the poor girl to the state she's in right now, he concluded. Courfeyrac called for another bottle of red wine as Éponine drank the last drop of the bottle.

"For a small girl like you, you sure drink a lot." Bahorel stated. Courfeyrac noted that even though she drank almost a bottle of wine, Éponine was not even blushing. She was still speaking coherently and with posture.

Éponine shrugged. "With the kind of life that I lead, I get used to wine and alcohol." At the same time, she glared at them as if daring them to ask more about her life. They were smart enough to know better.

"I wonder between you and Grantaire, who can hold their alcohol better?" said Feuilly.

"I've seen Grantaire." Éponine replied after swallowing a chunk of fine white bread. "He may hold a bottle of wine in his hand all day, but the man cannot hold his drink at all." She took a sip of the wine. "I'd drink him under the table any day."

Bahorel laughed and Courfeyrac asked her. "Was that a challenge?"

Éponine shrugged. "If you want it to be Monsieur Courfeyrac. I know what men are like. They can't handle losing to a woman."

The second bottle of wine was running out at an incredible speed, and Éponine's cheeks started to glow, but she was nowhere near drunk. Not even buzzed.

"It's a competition then!" declared Courfeyrac while Bahorel cheered. "We must inform Grantaire tonight after taking Mademoiselle Éponine to Enjolras's apartment, so that the idiot won't drink tomorrow for a fair game."

"Who said I was going to Monsieur Enjolras's?" she asked and smirked as the color drained from Courfeyrac's face. "I'm joking, Monsieur Courfeyrac." She laughed light-heartedly. "You should have seen your face."

* * *

Enjolras opened the door to find an entourage standing at the hallway. He saw Courfeyrac's mischievous smile, Bahorel's excited face, Feuilly's good-natured expression and Éponine's rather annoyed look.

"What is this?" his eyebrows furrowed.

"We followed Mademoiselle Éponine home." Exclaimed Courfeyrac. "But that took an unexpected turn. Someone tried to harm Mademoiselle Éponine, and we rescued her."

"I could have taken care of it by myself." Éponine grumbled.

_What does that have to do with you four standing here at my front door?, _Enjolras's eyes seemed to suggest.

"Anyway, as I was saying." Courfeyrac continued. "Mademoiselle Éponine could not go home tonight, and we were appalled to find out that she was going to sleep under a bridge. We simply could not allow that. So I was wondering Enjolras, would you let her stay the night here?"

Enjolras looked at them sternly. Courfeyrac worriedly chimed in. "I'm sure it won't be too much of a hassle."

"I shall take the couch Monsieur Enjolras." Said Éponine. "And it's for only for one night. You don't have to worry."

Enjolras replied. "I'm not worried about that. Éponine you can sleep here for as long as you want to, I do not mind. It is only mere decency to help those who are in need."

"I knew he wouldn't disagree." Smiled Courfeyrac. "We're settled then?"

"I cannot thank you enough Monsieur Enjolras." Éponine stepped ahead, and Enjolras instinctively took a step back.

"You can thank me by not hugging me." He warned her and Éponine broke into laughter.

"As you wish Monsieur Enjolras."

"Alright, it's very late now." Enjolras announced. "I'm sure Mademoiselle Éponine is very tired, and she needs her rest. You three should leave."

Courfeyrac nodded and gestured Bahorel and Feuilly to follow him. Éponine stepped into the room and Enjolras closed the door.

"I am so sorry on behalf of Courfeyrac." Enjolras shook his head. "He's a good-natured man, but he could be foolish sometimes."

"Don't apologize for him." Éponine said, wandering around the apartment. "He did nothing but goodness for me tonight. I'm deeply grateful."

Enjolras nodded. "That's good to know you're not offended by his idiotic actions."

Éponine headed towards the couch and was about to take off her shoes when Enjolras asked.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm about to sleep?" answered a confused Éponine.

"No Mademoiselle Éponine, I cannot allow you to sleep on the couch." He shook his head. "You will sleep in my bed and I will sleep on the couch tonight. No argue."

"No!" She exclaimed. "I have bothered you enough, there's no need to give up your bed for me."

"Please Mademoiselle Éponine. I will be working until very late tonight in this room and it will disturb you. You are sleeping in my bed and I will not take any refusal."

With that he settled down on the couch and stared at her, his arms folded across his chest. Éponine sighed.

"If you're not the strangest man I know. At least let me bring you a pillow and a blanket."

Enjolras nodded. "You'd find the extra blanket at the top shelf of the wardrobe."

She disappeared into his bedroom and came back a minute later, carrying his biggest pillow and the blanket. "Good night Monsieur Enjolras." She murmured as she put them down on the couch and started heading back into his bedroom.

Before she closed the door, Éponine turned around and spoke to him. "Monsieur Enjolras, you and your friends are good men. I may not know much but I believe in your cause. May God bless you."

"Thank you for your encouragement, Mademoiselle Éponine." He nodded. "May God bless us."

"Good night Monsieur Enjolras." She smiled.

"Good night Mademoiselle Éponine."

_Now, why is it that you're so much less guarded and alarmed when the night comes? _Thought Enjolras briefly when Éponine closed the door. He knew he was not a particular good judge of people based on first impression, but he always felt like he never fully grasped Éponine even after the first two weeks meeting her, and he was afraid he was never going to. There existed in her, both despair and hope, both happiness and sorrow, both a nostalgia for the past and expect for the future at the same time. She was proud and feisty, yet she ran in and out of the café delivering Pontmercy's notes like a loyal puppy. He could not be sure what he should expect from her.

Enjolras shook his head to get rid of these distracting thoughts, as he realized he was about to waste more time than he would allow himself. He stood up from the couch, sat down on the chair and started burying his head under the pile of paper again.

* * *

**Thank you all for the lovely reviews. I really enjoyed writing this chapter and I hope it shows.**


	8. Who's Gonna Come Around When You Break

**Chapter 8. Who's Gonna Come Around When You Break**

"_who's gonna pick you up  
when you fall  
who's gonna hang it up  
when you call  
who's gonna pay attention  
to your dreams  
who's gonna plug their ears  
when you scream_

_you can't go on_  
_thinking nothing's wrong_  
_who's gonna drive you home tonight"_

_(Drive, The Cars)_

* * *

In the middle of the night Éponine woke up and found herself staring at the ceiling. The moonlight shone directly through the window to where she was lying. At first she did not know why she was awake, she closed her eyes and tried to go back to sleep. Éponine shifted around but her eyes somehow still managed to spring open against her will.

Suddenly she understood. Usually she did not go to sleep until after 3. She left the Maxim when it was barely midnight. Enjolras's bed was also very comfortable, too comfortable, too soft, too warm.

_You are so picky_, she cursed under her breath. Éponine figured that there was no use trying to sleep again, so she rose up from and bed and wrap the blanket around herself to keep warm. Seeing the light peaking through the door crack underneath, Éponine sneakily opened the door and casted a glance upon where Enjolras was sitting, still looking through the papers and jotted down some notes every once in a while. She carefully slipped through the door crack and sat down on the couch.

"Go back to sleep Éponine." Not turning back, Enjolras ordered.

"You should stop working so late at night." She ignored his command. "It's bad for your health. Young men like you should rest well."

"You should stop running in and out of the café at Marius's every whim." Enjolras muttered. "It doesn't do you any good, and it distracts Marius greatly."

"Excuse me?"

He turned around to face her. "Normally I don't give matters like this too much attention. Joly and Bossuet have their mistress. Courfeyrac is a skirtchaser. Bahorel is pinning after one mademoiselle too. I think it's a nuisance, but I don't condemn them. You and Marius, on the other hand, are almost unhealthily obsessed. Marius is too occupied with Colette –"

"Cosette." She corrected him.

"It doesn't matter." He disregarded her. "He doesn't care about anything else."

"Yes he does." Éponine felt the heat rising from her chest to her neck. "Marius is an honest, hard-working, genuine man who earns his own living…"

"You're straying from the topic Mademoiselle Éponine." It was Enjolras's turn to correct her.

"What I'm trying to say is…" she sighed. "He isn't some rich bourgeosie who idly sits all day dreaming and romancing. Marius works very hard and he lives simply. It is only right that he is infatuated one day." She casted her eyes down. "Monsieur Enjolras, I'm afraid you don't know what it's like to be in love."

"Yes I do." He confirmed. "My love is for France."

"And will you tell me you don't obsess over her also?" she questioned. "Will you tell me you don't spend every waking minute thinking about her? You don't stay awake at night because of her? You're not willing to do anything just for her?"

Enjolras was silent. Éponine smiled sympathetically.

"See Monsieur? You're not so different from Marius. Your object of affection is perhaps more abstract than Marius's, but to me it's all the same."

"Why are you defending him so passionately?" It was his turn to question. "What do you get out of it?"

She had not uttered a word to anybody about her feelings for Marius, but they did not have to spell it out. It was clear as daylight to everybody, though Marius was a blind man. At that particular moment, she understood and he understood, and she understood that he understood, that she loved Marius deeply and unconditionally, that her love for Marius surpassed any of Joly's, Bossuet's or Courfeyrac's accomplishment.

"You of all people should know Monsieur Enjolras." She did not hesitate to throw a sharp answer at him. "France will not return your love, not that you can feel it directly. Why do you try so hard then? It is the sensation of pleasing your beloved. When I see Marius happy, I am also happy knowing that I contributed to his happiness. Besides, if I can still be of use to him in any way I am glad."

Enjolras seemed to find this logic rather sad as he shook his head lightly.

"You are capable of so much more than Marius's pigeon, Éponine. I'd hate to see you waste your potential."

"I'd like to use my potential in ways that I deem suitable for myself, thank you." She answered coldly.

Enjolras did not answer. Éponine stood up and strolled to the window. She looked down at the street below, her face suddenly dreamy. "I remember the day I first met Monsieur Marius."

"Of course you do." Enjolras rolled his eyes but Éponine ignored him.

"He gave me five francs out of his pocket even though he hardly had any money left. No one had ever been so kind, so respectful to me." Éponine smiled. "He even let me touch his books. And he is such a pretty boy, he is. We've become good friends ever since. Aside from Marius, I don't have anyone else quite so kind to me."

"That is an exaggeration." He mumbled under his breath but Éponine could not hear him. She continued, rather excitedly.

"Monsieur Enjolras, I have been thinking about my dream ever since you asked me, but the more I thought about it, the more wretched I am knowing that it can never come true. Why did you ever plant the thought in my head?"

"Mademoiselle Éponine," he was only too glad the subject had shifted. "I know it seems hard, but you must not lose hope in the future and be defeated. The best is yet to come."

"Is it?" she asked. "Is it really? I've seen Maman, I've seen Papa, and I don't want to end up like them. Oh, it's too shameful to think of! I'm only too glad that Gavroche is with you and Les Amis. He's a good boy, he can take care of himself, and you and your friends are decent men. Nothing like the sort of people my family associate with."

"I will try my best to take care of Gavroche." He nodded. "And I promise you, Mademoiselle Éponine, I and my friends will think of a way to better your life."

"I don't expect too much Monsieur." She smiled. "It's quite all right, your friends don't like me that much, and you shouldn't have to bother yourself with my problems."

"Don't be so self-deprecating. Combeferre thinks highly of you, and I think after tonight, you'll realize that Courfeyrac cares about you also."

"But what about you?"

He sighed, for he had foreseen it coming. "I care about the people of France."

"Ah, clever answer. You're a clever boy Monsieur." She smiled.

"Don't think too much Éponine, and go back to sleep, I insist." Enjolras sighed, realizing he had wasted much more time than he intended.

"Will you go to sleep soon?" she asked, her face concerned.

"Yes, after you." He lied to assure her. "Besides, both of us won't get any sleep if we stay up all night talking nonsense."

"Yes you're right, as always." She smiled and headed towards the bedroom.

When Enjolras woke up in the morning, he was still sitting on the chair with his head on the desk. He must have fallen asleep while working. What struck his surprise was the blanket draping over his shoulder, keeping him warm all night. Enjolras shrugged off the blanket and tossed it over the couch nearby. He stood up and saw the door to his bedroom flinging wide open. The room was empty. Enjolras strolled to the dining room only to find a simple breakfast laid out on the table for him: two toasts, a giant omelette, a small stick of butter and a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. There was a note for him on the table. It read:

"_Madame Lafleur told me you often skipped breakfast so I cooked you some. Please eat, you've worked all night and you barely slept. You need to take good care of yourself, you've got a revolution going on. Thank you for letting me stay last night._

_E."_

He wondered if she had slept at all last night. He wondered when she had left, and whether she had gone home to the brothel, to be touched by stranger's hands again. He wondered while she was cooking for him, had she anything to eat at all this morning. The thought made him sad in an unexplainable way.

* * *

That night when Enjolras came to café Musain later than usual, he was caught off guard by a strange event. People were surrounding a particular table, cheering and hollering loudly. Enjolras walked over and saw a disturbing scene: Grantaire and Éponine facing each other with a bottle of whiskey by each side. There was little left in both bottles. Grantaire seemed even drunker than usual, if such a thing was possible, he was practically lying on the table and was barely speaking coherently; while Éponine's face was very pale.

"What is this?" Enjolras knitted his eyebrows, asking Courfeyrac.

"A drinking contest." Answered Courfeyrac. "Grantaire could not turn the offer down."

"How is this fair for Éponine? She is small and thin while Grantaire is a strong, well-fed grown man." Enjolras shook his head.

"I think you need to stop underestimating Éponine's capacity Enjolras." Bahorel chimed in. "Look at Grantaire, he has practically lost already, he just needs to accept it."

"How do you do Monsieur Grantaire?" Éponine asked sarcastically.

"Terrific Mademoiselle Éponine." He grumbled. "Never been better."

"Good." She smiled, but anyone could see how much effort she was putting in to keep her back straight. "Are you down for another round?"

"Why not?"

They both poured whiskey into a small glass then tossed it back in a gulp while everyone cheered. Enjolras winced. The reason he never drank was because he was terrible at holding his drink, he knew he would get drunk very easily, yet these two were drinking like no tomorrow.

"Should they even be drinking right now?" He questioned. "Grantaire is always drunk and nobody should encourage him, and I must say I expected more from Éponine."

"We couldn't let it pass Enjolras." Answered Bossuet. "This is truly intriguing, a grisette challenging one of us men. I am torn between feeling amused and threatened."

While they were conversing, Grantaire dropped his head on the table then made no sound, while Éponine's face was suddenly devoid of any emotions and her gaze seemed unfixed, like she was staring into nothing.

"Grantaire!" exclaimed Jehan worriedly. "My friend! Are you alright?"

"Let me see." Joly pushed through the crowd to get to Grantaire. Pulling Grantaire's eyelids upward, he examined the white eyeball then announced. "He is unconscious."

The crowd roared with such thunderous noise that Enjolras had to cover his ears. Courfeyrac left Enjolras's side to pat on Éponine's back. She smiled sheepishly while the boys cheered for her.

"Great job Mademoiselle Éponine!" howled Bossuet. "You made a fool out of all us men."

Éponine leaned back against the chair. "As the great Clytemnestra had once declared over the corpse of Agamemnon 'I killed him, struck him down. I don't deny it! The deed is done, I'm proud of it!' " she laughed triumphantly.

"Hello Monsieur Enjolras." Éponine giggled when she saw him, barely able to contain herself. "How are you doing? Still staying up all night writing those speeches? Why don't you join me for a drink?"

Enjolras meanwhile was poking Grantaire to make sure that his friend was still breathing. "Better not Mademoiselle Éponine. Frankly I'm a bit disappointed in all of you."

"Oh, you're always so serious Monsieur." She grumbled. "Mademoiselle this Mademoiselle that. Loosen up a bit will ya? I'd like to see those beautiful lips of yours smile once before I die."

She fell into a pit of uncontrollable giggles while he blushed and mumbled under his breath. "Éponine you're obviously very drunk. I don't think you should come home alone in this state."

"I can take care of myself." She waved impatiently.

"I think Enjolras is right Mademoiselle Éponine." Said Courfeyrac. "You surely must not want to go home tonight."

"I never want to go home." She laughed bitterly. "Too many people. Too noisy. Maman will yell at me again."

"Enjolras, do you mind…?" whispered Courfeyrac, gesturing at Éponine.

"Frankly I'd feel much better so no." Catching his best friend's intention, Enjolras quickly replied. "And I think it's best if we bring Grantaire along as well. I don't think he will be safe on his own, not after this."

With the assistant of Combeferre, Courfeyrac managed to drag Grantaire back to Enjolras's apartment nearby. Enjolras carried Éponine over his shoulder despise her resistance, she was too drunk to put up a fight anyway. Once Éponine and Grantaire were both put in bed and carefully tucked in, Joly stopped by to give Enjolras some advice.

"When they wake up in the morning, make sure that they drink a lot of water. Get them something light to eat. If you can Enjolras, check on them every once in a while. They might choke on their own vomit during sleep."

"Fantastic." He moaned.

Joly patted his back and started walking towards the door along with Courfeyrac. "Taking care of others is never easy. I'm going home now, Musichetta must be waiting for me."

"Send her my greetings." Enjolras nodded and closed the door. He sighed heavily and spoke to Combeferre, who was also preparing to leave. "What in heaven's name were they thinking? Was this Grantaire's idea?"

"Actually no, it was Mademoiselle Éponine's idea." Combeferre smiled. "She was very impressive."

"Not you too Combeferre."

"Act grumpy all you want, Enjolras, but you must admit this girl is quite remarkable." Combeferre opened the door. "Honestly I don't think you do her justice. I know you're worried about her…"

"Who said I was?" Enjolras said defensively.

"…Sometimes." Combeferre finished his sentence. "It's easy to see why. She is obviously not well taken care of, and I know you like feeling responsible for other's well-being, but you must understand that Mademoiselle Éponine is not a helpless damsel in distress. She is, in fact, quite capable of taking care of herself, and quite smart also."

"I know." He put a hand to his forehead. "Believe me, I did not mean to belittle her in any way. But she lives a very questionable life."

"Then you will have to learn to trust her." Combeferre smiled knowledgeably.

"Since when are you an expert about Mademoiselle Éponine?" Enjolras questioned.

"Who said I was?" Combeferre grinned. "Good night Enjolras."

"Good night Combeferre."

What Éponine didn't foresee and Enjolras could not predict, was that this night was going into history of the Les Amis. That Éponine's victory gained her the ultimate respect and acceptance to the boys' club, and they would still mention it after a very long time, with good humor and lively banter. But more about that later.


	9. It's Hard To Get By Just Upon A Smile

**First off, let me apologize for the extremely late update. I have been busy with finals and just personal/fandom crisis that led to the delay of this update. Thank you all so much for the kind reviews/follow/favorite. I promise now it's summer I will update more regularly. Thank you for still sticking with this story.**

**Chapter 9. It's Hard To Get By Just Upon A Smile**

_You know I've seen a lot of what the world can do_  
_And it's breakin' my heart in two_  
_Because I never wanna see you a sad girl_  
_Don't be a bad girl_  
_But if you wanna leave, take good care_  
_I hope you make a lot of nice friends out there_  
_But just remember there's a lot of bad and beware_

_(Wild World, Cat Stevens)_

* * *

Enjolras was waken up the following morning by a piercing shriek coming from his bedroom, followed by various grunts and a usually-raspy-but-now-high-pitched female voice asking various questions and delivering exclamations.

Somewhere among the noises he could hear Grantaire's voice, full of panic and tired at the same time.

"Mademoiselle I do not know anything. I don't remember anything. Please stop asking questions."

"What do you mean you don't know anything surely you must know something! How did you and I end up in the same bed?..."

"I honestly do not…"

"Don't give me that Monsieur Grantaire!"

"I don't know what you want…"

Enjolras rose from the couch, stretched out his arms and yawned sleepily. It was one of those few moments in the day when he allowed himself to relax and simply be droopy. This morning Enjolras had found no reason to rush. The corner of his mouth curled up into a smile as he heard Éponine stomping her foot, and he burst out laughing when Grantaire shot out of his bedroom with one leg putting in one trouser, his hair all messy.

"Good morning Grantaire."

"Morning Enjolras." He grunted while managing to pull up his trousers. "Found a surprise in my bed. I have to admit I have always dreamed of waking up in the morning with a Mademoiselle by my side, but never have I ever thought it would turn out this way."

"Be careful what you wish for." Was Enjolras' response.

"I didn't...did I?" Grantaire gestured to the bedroom worriedly.

"No."

Éponine came out right after Grantaire. The two men stopped talking and turned to her, anticipating an anger from hell. Fortunately, she only glared knives and daggers and samurai swords at them before stomping out the door, not forgetting to slam it especially hard.

"Quite a girl isn't she?" Grantaire commented.

"Very memorable yes." Enjolras agreed. "Now about that time when you went to talk about Robespierre but instead chose to gamble with the host…"

* * *

"Ah, Mademoiselle Éponine, there you are!" exclaimed Joly when Eponine walked into the back room. "I've been expecting you."

Éponine blinked. "Yes?"

"How are you feeling this evening?"

"I'm feeling fine…"

"Have you anything to eat?" he hastily cut in.

"Erm…"

"Good evening Mademoiselle Éponine." Shouted Feuilly from behind her. Éponine turned around and was met with three smiling faces, one of them was even of Grantaire. Meanwhile, Joly continued babbling excitedly.

"Would you like something to eat? You look so thin Éponine. After consuming such a large amount of alcohol your body needs nourishment! Your skin is so yellow, I worry for your liver function."

"Well I…"

Without warning, Joly grabbed her hand and almost dragged her to a table nearby. "Take your time. I'll get you something to eat. No wine for you tonight, I think you'd have to forgive me."

"I…"

Éponine sat down and looked around her. In a corner there were Combeferre, Courfeyrac and Enjolras deeply engaged in a conversation as usual. At a table near her Bossuet and Bahorel were laughing while Grantaire laid back in his chair, his gaze fixed upon the other trio while pretending to listen to Bossuet and Bahorel. Nothing was out of the usual. It could not be that this was a conspiracy; les amis ganged up together to do something to her could it?

"Mademoiselle Éponine…" said a shyly Jehan sneaking up from behind her. "I could not help but ask…I noticed that last night you were quoting Aeschylus, yes?"

"I was?" Éponine was confused.

"Yes you were." Jehan's eyes were sparkling. "Don't you remember? 'I killed him, struck him down. I don't deny it! The deed is done, I'm proud of it!' So I take it that you have read the Oresteia?"

"Oh no Monsieur Prouvaire…"

"Call me Jehan." He smiled. Éponine nodded.

"I have only read the first play of the trio. I've heard things about the other two, and I am genuinely afraid of what would happen to my favorite character."

"But you must read it!" exclaimed Jehan, his hands clasped together. "It is absolutely vital to the core idea of the play, the ending of the last play."

Éponine sighed. "If you insist Jehan. Will the fate of Clytemnestra be terrible though?"

"Oh absolutely. That vicious, vile, brutal woman…"

"I happen to like Clytemnestra." Éponine cut in coldly. She knew too well the prejudice against the queen of Argos, but she couldn't help liking her. Clytemnestra was unapologetically proud and smart. She would not let the men in her life tramped on her. Éponine aspired to be like her. Instead of being completely horrified and offended like most men Éponine knew would, Jehan instead smiled and asked her calmly.

"Would you kindly explain to me why?"

While Éponine was explaining to Jehan how Clytemnestra was inspiring to her, Courfeyrac passed by the two of them. Noticed the topic of their conversation, he chuckled.

"Sweet Jesus, once Jehan had started about one of his four dead poets there is no stopping him. Good luck Mademoiselle Éponine."

A plump middle age woman brought Éponine her dinner: beef ragout and bread. Nutritious and sufficient, Éponine silently commented in her head. Years of living in constant hunger taught her not to refuse free food. She was proud, but pride would have to yield to basic need. She tried to thank Joly but he brushed her off, saying it was unnecessary.

Éponine spent the rest of the evening talking about other epic poems and tragedies she had read with Jehan. He promised to bring her Dante's _Inferno _the following evening.

This was the first evening she did not spend by Marius's side. Aside from Jehan, the boys kept her busy by dropping into the conversation, teasing her or to simply sneak her some wine from their glass (Joly would frown upon this, but Joly did not see anything). Éponine started getting relaxed and let her guard down. It had been years since she could enjoy an evening, she could not remember a time when she was laughing and enjoying herself like this. She realized, that Les Amis, aside from having radical political ideals and discussions, they too were only normal human beings. They were schoolboys, concerned with classes, professors, grades, gambling, operas and women (Enjolras was the only exception to this). Their incessant chatting and good humour kept her from thinking about her own misery.

_It was almost like coming to Monsieur Marius's apartment, _she thought to herself.

Speaking of Marius, around 11 he rose from his spot and quietly disappeared down the stairs. This was fairly new, as Marius usually left around the same time everyone did. Éponine excused herself and immediately followed him. Wherever Marius was heading to, he was determined. He did not stop or hesitate or to look around. She followed him to the Luxembourgh until he took a quick left turn into a small alley.

_Wait a minute, _she thought to herself, _I know where this is._

The alley led to Rue Plumet, as she had expected. She watched as Marius carefully lifted the loose latch on the gate and disappeared without a sound into the lustrous garden. Éponine slowly walked up to the gate. Her fingers latched onto the bars, holding tightly. She stood there for the longest time, staring into nothingness, deeply engulfed in her thoughts.

Though she frequently delivered their love letters, due to Monsieur Fauchelevent's strict rules when it came to his (adopted, Éponine Thenardier might add) daughter, the matter had never really crossed her mind since Marius was forever banned from seeing Cosette directly. It gave her comfort, almost a pride, in knowing that she had some sort of power over Cosette. Cosette might have his love, but _she _was the one who could meet him any time she wanted, _she _was the one who spent most time by his side. Cosette exchanged pretty words with him, but Éponine was the one who heard his voice, looked into his beautiful blue eyes, touched his fingers.

_Now what_, she asked herself. _How long are you going to continue down this path Éponine? How long are you going to keep on deluding yourself?_ She felt tired, an exhaustion deep within her core that could not be fixed.

_You're digging a hole for yourself here Éponine. _

Éponine would probably stand there forever if it had not been for the familiar voices that were getting closer. Recognizing the voice of her father, she quickly withdrew into a small hole in the wall nearby, meanwhile keeping an ear on the quickly approaching gang.

"This is it gentlemen." She heard the hoarse voice of her father. "We make it tonight, then we won't have to worry for months. There are two women in the house, and I heard the old man was gone tonight. This should be easy."

Several other voices rumbled in agreement, of whom she recognized as Claquesous, Babet, Montparnasse and even Gueulemer.

_No. Marius is still in there. They're going to kill him for sure._

Almost immediately, without a thought, Éponine stepped out of her hiding spot to greet her father.

"Hello dear Papa. Long time no see." She smiled. "How have you been?"

"What is this?" Babet grunted, while Claquesous and Montparnasse exchanged confused looks.

"Éponine, what are you doing here?" Thenardier whispered.

"Haven't you missed me Papa? I've been out a lot. What are you doing here tonight? I thought I told you this was a biscuit."

"Biscuit or not, dearest daughter, we've got business to do." Thenardier replied.

"Ah, you see, there's no reason for you to. There is nothing, absolutely nothing in this house papa."

"Be careful Éponine, you might cut yourself." Murmured Montparnasse, who lifted his sleeve to reveal the blade he had been hiding. She laughed.

"We must have faith in other people 'Parnasse."

"Get out of the way Éponine." Clasquesous stepped ahead. "We've been waiting for too long. Biscuit or not, we are going to finish this once and for all."

"Well then." She said, placing herself between Patron-Minette and the gate, with her back leaning on the cold iron bars. "Don't even think about getting in there."

"Why?" questioned Gueulemer.

"Because I don't want you to." She hissed, her eyes narrowed with a hint of anger in them. "I don't want you to rob this house tonight. Go find somewhere else."

"Let me handle this." Montparnasse stepped ahead, but she stopped him by talking out loudly.

"Step any closer and I will yell. I will yell so loud that people all the way from Montfermeil can still hear me." She was almost shouting. "I will scream. The neighbours will be woken. The police will come and arrest us all. Who cares if I'll be arrested too, or if one of you will kill me? My life is as miserable as it can be, I don't care if I will die lying on the ground, eaten by dogs afterwards. I will _scream_. _There are six of you, but I am everyone._"

Éponine opened her mouth and started screaming. Her father reached out and landed his hand on her face. Her head banged against the iron bars. She could taste the fishy, salty taste of blood on her tongue, so she wiped her mouth. However, as she had anticipated, the neighbors nearby started getting restless, they turned on their lights and some windows were being opened. Ashamed of being defeated by a seventeen year old girl, the Patron-Minette exchanged looks before they retreated back to the streets. Meanwhile, Éponine figured the noise must have alarmed Marius some how so she followed them a few moments later.

_That was close, _she thought to herself. This meant that tonight she could not go home to sleep. Not that she had been going home to sleep for a while; she had been crashing at Enjolras's apartment for two consecutive days, though one was unintentional. It was already very late, but it hardly mattered to Enjolras who usually worked all night. However she could not put herself at his mercy anymore, she did not want to bother the man. Besides, she was almost certain he would notice her bloody mouth as well as the bruise which was beginning to form around the corner of her mouth. She could stop going to les amis meetings for several days till the bruise faded, but she could not face the judgmental and pitiful look on Enjolras's face anymore. He respected her, and he wouldn't ask too many questions before she was comfortable answering them, but she knew that look in his eyes. The look that asked a million questions before they were voiced, the look that seemed to ask _why is your life so terrible. _No, she did not want that look. She wanted solitude, to go lick her wounds alone.

_Another night spent under the bridge, _she lamented, remembering the comfort and softness that a bed offered two nights before.

_If only you knew what I would do for you pretty boy. _Éponine bitterly laugh. _But then again, it's probably better that you don't._


	10. Friends Will Be Friends

**I feel like apologizing for the lack of Enjonine interactions last chapter so this one is pretty fluffy imo (as fluffy as bromance can be). Enjoy!**

**Chapter 10. Friends Will Be Friends.**

_It's not easy love, but you've got friends you can trust,_  
_ Friends will be friends,_  
_ When you're in need of love they give you care and attention,_  
_ Friends will be friends,_  
_ When you're through with life and all hope is lost,_  
_ Hold out your hand cos friends will be friends right till the end._

_(Friends Will Be Friends, Queen)_

* * *

"Éponine?"

"Go away this is my spot. Find another place to sleep."

"Éponine wake up. It's me Enjolras."

Éponine's eyes sprang open, she almost jerked away from Enjolras's hand placing on her shoulder.

"What…What are you doing here?" she couldn't believe her luck. Why was it that the more she wanted to avoid him, the more she was prone to see him?

"I was on my way to see my professor. What are _you _doing here under the bridge, for that matter?"

"I'm sleeping." She gingerly replied, trying to turn the right side of face away from him. "Isn't that obvious?"

His eyebrows knitted together. "I thought I made it clear that you could come to me whenever you need a place to sleep. You left early last night. Is there any problem?"

"None of your concern." Éponine snapped back. _Stop, what are you doing? _She scolded herself. _Why are you always so goddamn defensive?_

"Éponine is that a bruise?" He pulled her up and turned her face to him. "Tell me what happened."

"Why do you care so much?" she blurted out. Éponine was suddenly hit by a pang of anger. Ever since she met him her life had been so much more complicated. Not only had he found out that she was a prostitute, he was constantly questioning her life as well. She shoved him out of the way and started walking beside the river. Enjolras wasted no time catching up with her.

"I care because you are my friend Éponine." He reached out for her arm and stopped her. "Maybe you don't consider me a friend, but I do. I worry about you."

Éponine stopped midway, her shoulders tensed up and started shaking. It took him three seconds to realize that she was silently sobbing.

She did nothing, nothing for Enjolras. And yet he cared about her more than Marius ever could. She didn't want to blame Marius, but boy was he oblivious to anything other than his beloved Cosette.

"If you don't want to tell me what happened, then I won't bother you anymore." His voice softened. "Are you hungry Éponine?"

"Not really." She sniffed and wiped her nose. "Recently I've been well fed. I ate last night."

"Well I am." He straightened up. "Would you like to join me for lunch?"

Éponine smiled faintly. "What is it with you boys and always wanting to feed me? First Courfeyrac, then Joly. I thought you wouldn't do this to me, but you have disappointed me greatly."

He chuckled and held out his right arm. She took his elbow and together they walked along the Seine.

* * *

She told him after all. She told him what happened. How she followed Marius to Rue Plumet and stood there waiting for him. Her encounter with her father and Patron-Minette. Enjolras was nearly flipping the table when he heard what her father did to her.

"Abominable man, how dare he treat you like that!" exclaimed Enjolras. "Had he no shame?"

Éponine shook her head. "Poverty twists a man in ways you can never imagine Enjolras."

"I suppose." He frowned. "Éponine…" his eyes lighted up. "Would you like to get a job?"

"I already _have _one."

"A _real_ job." He emphasized.

"Why yes." She smiled. "There is nothing I'd like more than to work honestly."

_Then maybe I can save up money and get Azelma out of that place._

Enjolras stood up and grabbed her hand. "Follow me."

He took her into the kitchen behind the wooden door. "Hello?" He spoke loudly. "Would you happen to be hiring? Hello? I would like to meet the owner of the café please."

A plump, short man with a red face walked up to Enjolras, scolding him.

"Boy what are you doing, disturbing my kitchen?"

"Excuse me rudeness Monsieur." Enjolras shook his hand. "I was wondering if you were in need of assistant."

"Why?" the man glanced at Enjolras. "You seem well off enough, I don't suppose you want to work here do you?"

"No Monsieur." He pushed Éponine forward, who had been hiding behind his back the whole time. "My good friend Éponine, erm…"  
"Jondrette." She filled in, realizing she never really told him her last name. It wasn't even her real last name.

"Yes, Éponine Jondrette. She is seeking a job."

The man looked at her suspiciously. Éponine couldn't blame him. She had a giant bruise at the corner of her mouth and her clothes were still dirty and tattered.

"This young grisette is your friend?"

"Yes Monsieur. A very good friend indeed." Enjolras flashed a smile. For a moment she was stunned by his ability to be charming when he wanted to be. How come she never quite saw it? Enjolras wasn't mischievous like Courfeyrac, but there was something in Enjolras's smile, an assured kind of quality that appeased to the person he was speaking to. People could trust Enjolras with their life just looking at his smile.

"Well…" the man hesitated. "I suppose we can always use an extra pair of hands. Are you good with Paris's streets young lady?"

"Why yes Monsieur." Her eyes lighted up.

"No one knows Paris better than Éponine." Enjolras chimed in.

"You'd better be. The little girl who used to run errands for us, Beatrice has found another job, and we've been desperate to look for a substitute since." He glanced upon her bruise one more time. "Show up tomorrow morning at 5, we need to buy the freshest meat there is. If you're late for one minute then don't bother."

Éponine bowed her head as low as she could. "Thank you so much Monsieur. I won't disappoint you."

"All right, now you youngsters need to get out of my kitchen." He waved impatiently. "You've wasted enough of my time."

There began Éponine's work at cafe Grande Tasse. Every day she showed up on the back door at 5 in the morning, received the grocery list then ran to the market. Occasionally she went out to buy coal and oil, but she usually finished at 3, when she would grab a quick bite from the guest's leftovers. Éponine had moved into Enjolras's apartment as he insisted (she insisted on sleeping on the couch). She would come back to his apartment when she was done with work and began cleaning as well as cooking his dinner. ("You needn't do this Éponine!" "Eating out is expensive. And since I'm putting all the ingredients on your tab, it's not like I'm paying for anything! At least let me pay you back for letting me stay here."). She had learned much from the kitchen she worked at, where she would wander around observing the cooks. If she still had free time, Éponine would settle down and read a book that she had borrowed from Jehan or Marius (Enjolras's books were mostly too political or philosophical, she was uninterested). Around 9 they usually walked to café Musain together. At first Les Amis would tease them restlessly. Though Éponine was hardly a proper grisette, it was still strange that she was living alone with a young man like Enjolras. However, a serious stare from Enjolras and various snarky remarks quickly put a stop to all gossip and rumours. They had made it clear to everyone that they were no more than friends, and Éponine frequently expressed the desire to move out as soon as she could. Only Courfeyrac would still sometimes glance at the two of them and smirked, as if he knew something nobody else did, not even Enjolras and Éponine themselves.


End file.
